Downfall
by morning's-broken-angel
Summary: An explosion in the Potions classroom leaves behind a raving Potions Master, a bloody Draco, and a certain redhead we all love having a moment of altruistic weakness. Ginny's kindness makes Draco very suspicious, leading him to destroy her goodwill. In re
1. Encounters of the Explosive Kind

Rating: 'R' for language, innuendo and sexual situations (later chapters, I promise)  
  
Summary: An explosion in the Potions classroom leaves behind a raving Potions Master, a bloody Draco, and a certain redhead we all love having a moment of altruistic weakness. Since kindness makes our favourite white ferret suspicious and a bit snarky, Ginny decides to put some rather embarrassing information about Draco to good use. Ahh, nothing like one-upsmanship to kindle a little romance. D/G, of course, but it mentions various other pairings (teenagers plus hormones = ... c'mon, what do you expect?!).  
  
Disclaimer: _Sigh_. We've all read enough fanfiction to know this. But in case you've been hit with a Memory Charm recently, here it is. Harry Potter, and everything that exists in his universe, belong to J.K. Rowling. I only get to claim the gaping plot holes.

Downfall  
  
Ginny tapped her foot impatiently, wondering how much longer this was going to take.   
  
_Merlin, I wish I was never made Prefect. I could be doing my Charms essay, or having a nice bath, or best of all, sleeping. No, instead I have the distinct displeasure of being in the cold, dank, depressing dungeons. Thanks so much, 4th years, you swotty little bastards._  
  
She tucked her hair behind her ear for what seemed the thousandth time, wishing she had brought a hair tie down with her. She glanced suspiciously over at her ex-boyfriend, Michael Corner, the other Prefect overseeing this joyous little party with her. Ever since Cho Chang had finished her 7th year, Michael Corner had been staring at Ginny and volunteering to partner her on their nightly rounds. Not amusing to Ginny's way of thinking, but he wasn't really doing anything, so she just sighed in annoyance and held her tongue.  
  
Apparently, the 4th year Potions class of Slytherins and Gryffindors had sniped at each other a little too much before sitting an exam, and Snape had assigned the lot of them to detention that night, even the Slytherins. He sat at the front of the room behind his desk, head bent over a roll of parchment, scribbling as fast as his hand could write, greasy black hair obscuring his face from view. The directions for the potion the class was to make were on the board behind him, and it was Ginny and Michael's job to ensure everyone minded their manners.   
  
Low murmurs, the bubbling of cauldrons and the scratching of Snape's quill were the only sounds in the oppressive room for several minutes, lulling Ginny into a daze. A noise to her left startled her. The door swung inward with a groan as Draco Malfoy strode in, Head Boy badge gleaming on his robes.   
  
He paused as he surveyed the room, and seeing her glare, raised a brow. With a jaunty little salute that only furthered her ire, he wove his way to the front of the room, pausing to converse with a Slytherin here and there.  
  
"Mr Malfoy, I hope you have a reason to be disrupting this detention?" Snape demanded.  
  
"Yes, sir. There is a House matter that requires your guidance. May I have a moment?"  
  
A movement at the corner of her eye caught Ginny's attention. Dennis Creevey was turned toward her with his hand raised. The little dark-haired girl at the table behind him, who, if Ginny was not mistaken, was Ivy, Pansy Parkinson's little sister, said something to cause his face to darken with anger. He said something back as he made a rude gesture at her, and turned his eyes to Ginny as she walked over to his table.   
  
"Ginny, the directions say three scarab beetles, but not how they're prepared. Does Professor Snape mean for us to use powdered, crushed or ground?"   
  
Ginny turned to the blackboard, reviewing in her mind the steps for a Wit-Sharpening Potion. She told Dennis to come over to the student stores cupboard, and she would give him clues.   
  
Ivy Parkinson saw this as her chance to modify that Mudblood Creevey's behaviour. Speaking to her like that! Really, he needed to be reminded of his place. Glancing around, she saw that the Weasley cow still had him at the cupboard, and the other Prefect was staring in the opposite direction. Professor Snape and Malfoy were engrossed in their conversation, so Ivy slowly drew her wand out of her rucksack.   
  
"Wingardium Leviosa!" she whispered, holding her wand as low as possible.  
  
The beaker of armadillo bile next to Creevey's cauldron rose quickly into the air, tilting precariously. She righted it, positioned it over the cauldron, and tipped it in.  
  
BOOM! A deafening noise rocked the room, thick with the sound of shattering glass, as a sickening yellow mist settled over everything. 

Ginny was thrown forward into the cupboard by the blast, feeling Dennis' slight frame fall across her legs. She rolled to her side and palmed her wand, groping around for his arm.  
  
"Dennis," she gasped, "are you all right?"  
  
"I-I think so. You?"  
  
Ginny nodded, pushing herself to her feet. She began to move to the nearest students, checking for any injuries.  
  
"WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS?!" Snape bellowed.   
  
As the mist lessened, she could see Snape standing next to his desk, which unfortunately now only had three legs and a large hole where the fourth corner should have been. His face suffused with unnatural colour, he howled, "MY CLASSROOM IS UTTERLY DESTROYED! WHO? I WANT TO KNOW WHO DID THIS, RIGHT NOW DAMMIT! I WILL HAVE YOU EXPELLED FOR THIS, I SWEAR IT!"  
  
Michael Corner had picked himself up as well, a slice of ginger root sticking to the side of his neck. "Professor, shouldn't we make sure everyone is okay first?"  
  
"I DON'T GIVE A BLOODY DAMN IF THESE... THINGS, ARE OKAY! I WANT ANSWERS!"  
  
Ginny continued around the room as Michael muttered the incantation to dissipate the remaining mist. Miraculously, no one looked to be seriously injured. A few scrapes and bruises seemed to be the extent of it, and most of those were owned by Ivy Parkinson, who was bawling her eyes out. Ginny thought she had found the culprit. She was making her way to the front of the room to try to calm the apoplectic-looking Snape down when she tripped over a foot.  
  
"Oh Merlin! Professor, it's Malfoy, sir!"  
  
He lay on his side, surrounded by an half-dozen shattered jars, with a pool of blood oozing steadily around his shoulder. A large shard of glass was sticking obscenely out of his upper chest. Ginny was shrugging out of her robes as Snape reached them.  
  
"WHOEVER CAUSED THIS IS DEAD!" he roared. "Corner! Go fetch Madam Pomfrey. Tell her it's an emergency, and to hurry. The rest of you, go directly to the Headmaster's Office and wait for a staff member to admit you. Do not leave until I arrive. I will have the wand of the person or persons responsible. Now get out!"  
  
Ginny sank to her knees next to Malfoy's head, her discarded robes in a pile next to her. She knew he was still alive, as his chest was rising and falling, but she feared the situation could change any minute; there was so much blood, and it was spreading rapidly.   
  
"Malfoy! Can you hear me? Malfoy!" she cried, an edge of hysteria slipping into her voice.  
  
A loud groan, and then, "I'm bleeding, Weasley, not deaf."  
  
"Are you alright, Mr Malfoy?" queried Snape.   
  
She noted that Snape actually appeared concerned. _Well, there's a first time for everything. I suppose it wouldn't do to have the first Slytherin Head Boy in, what, fifty-three years, die from wounds received in his Head of House's classroom. Looks bad on the references._  
  
Malfoy, in his customary dry drawl replied, "Oh yes, think I'll have myself a stroll round the lake now. No, it bloody hurts!"  
  
Ginny carefully grasped his upper body with one hand, and whilst cradling his head with the other, rolled him onto his back. She held him up and wriggled herself, cross-legged, beneath his neck, supporting his head in her lap.   
  
"Does that help a bit? Are you more comfortable?" Ginny handed her robes to Snape. "Here, Professor. We can use these to stem the bleeding."  
  
Snape withdrew his wand and performed a Severing Charm to slice the robe into more manageable strips, handing them off to Ginny as he went. "Here, hold these to the wound. Pressure is imperative, Miss Weasley."   
  
She carefully wadded a few strips around the jagged edges of the glass and pressed down, knowing how much it had to hurt.  
  
"Evil wench," Malfoy hissed. She pressed just the tiniest bit harder, out of spite. "Dammit! That hurts! Leave off, Weasley, before I-"  
  
Madam Pomfrey bustled in, skirts swirling around her. "Professor, what on earth happened? Mr Corner was gibbering about an explosion and Mr Malfoy... Oh my!"  
  
She rushed over to them, unmindful of the blood beginning to stain the hem of her clothes. "Never mind now, that can wait. Let me see, dear."   
  
Ginny leant back, and began to smooth the hair off Malfoy's forehead absently. She made soft, soothing noises in the back of her throat like her Mum used to when Ginny was small, stroking his hair and temple as Madam Pomfrey prodded at the glass with her wand.  
  
Malfoy grunted in pain as Madam Pomfrey sat back and began rolling her sleeves up and over her elbows.  
  
"That has to come out now. I can't put him on a stretcher with it imbedded like that; if he's jostled it may pierce his lung. Professor Snape, Miss Weasley, I'm going to need your help to hold him still for this. Professor, please keep his abdomen as steady as possible. Miss Weasley, take his shoulders."  
  
Malfoy, who was very pale now and trembling lightly, laughed, "Careful down there, Professor. The ladies will never forgive you if there's any collateral damage."  
  
Ginny looked at Madam Pomfrey and rolled her eyes as she sweetly countered, "Oh dear, he's growing delusional. Must be from losing so much blood. Hurry, Madam Pomfrey, hurry!"  
  
Malfoy, indignant, rolled his head back to give her the dressing-down she so richly deserved. And, quite inelegantly, began to splutter.   
  
"Bloody hell, Weasley! Who knew you were hiding those under your robes! No wonder your freak of a brother acts like a rampaging manticore when anyone with a Y-chromosome looks in your general direction." Pausing thoughtfully for a moment, he continued. "They HAVE to be real; your family is too poor to feed themselves, let alone pay for-"  
  
"One more word, Malfoy, and I will personally see that piece of glass into your lung."  
  
Dryly, Snape commented, "I think it would serve the Head Boy well to recall the decorum expected of his position."  
  
Malfoy, with a wicked look of pleasure, replied, "Funny you should mention position, sir. Personally, I find my current one-"  
  
"Mr Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey screeched, horrified. "I never! Cease your prattle this instant!"  
  
"Hell, I can't even finish a proper thought around here," Malfoy complained bitterly, his eyes slightly unfocussed and a faint gleam of sweat coating his brow.  
  
Madam Pomfrey positioned herself next to him after casting a quick Purification Charm on the strips of Ginny's robes. "Hold him," she commanded. "Oh please, Miss Weasley," she scoffed, "put some muscle in it, girl! You're a quidditch player, for Merlin's sake."  
  
Ginny, thoroughly embarrassed and brilliantly red from neck to hairline, leant down, placed her elbows directly on the front of Malfoy's shoulders and grasped each arm firmly at the elbow. She looked to Madam Pomfrey to see if this was sufficient, when-  
  
"Mmph mmphh bwaff!!"   
  
She released him and sat up quickly. "What?"  
  
Malfoy, grinning widely (_he knows how to grin?!_) and looking completed unhinged, shouted, "I say! Capital idea, Madam Pomfrey. Brilliant way to go, really, suffocated between two luscious breasts. Professor Snape, see that my tombstone is inscribed with that." He began to snicker, interspersed with gasps of pain from laughing.  
  
The other three looked at one another. Simultaneously, Ginny and Snape pinned Malfoy down.   
  
"One, two, three!"  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"  
  
"Quickly now, those robes!" Madam Pomfrey pressed them to his chest and grabbed her wand, casting a Binding Spell to hold them in place. Ginny looked back down. Malfoy was now completely devoid of all colour, his sharp features pinched with pain. She smoothed his hair again. His eyes closed and his face momentarily relaxed. _He enjoys having his hair stroked_, she thought._ Interesting. I would have taken him for the don't-touch-me-you-might-ruin-my-perfection sort._  
  
"Poor thing," she murmured.  
  
"Offering to kiss it better?" he smirked half-heartedly, looking very wan.  
  
Madam Pomfrey, finished removing the blood from her hands, conjured a stretcher and magicked Malfoy onto it. "Okay, Mr Malfoy, up you get. Let's move to the hospital wing and get you cleaned up."  
  
"Unghhh. Am I dying, Madam Pomfrey?" he gasped.  
  
"No, just being as melodramatic as ever, I'm afraid." Ginny giggled at that, ignoring the dark look Snape shot her when she did.   
  
Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I'll have you put to rights by tomorrow, but you'll need to stay abed in your dormitory for a day or so. Professor Snape, would you be so kind as to gather together a few clothes and toiletries for his overnight stay?"  
  
"Can't. I need to go see the Headmaster and deal with the students that started this fiasco. Miss Weasley will do it-"   
  
"No! I mean, I can't, I-"  
  
Snape just continued to talk right over her, matching the rising pitch of her voice with an increase in volume of his own.  
  
"- hallway to your left, three intersections down, left again. You'll see a statue of Salazar Slytherin. The passcode is... Draco?"  
  
Malfoy rolled his head towards the far wall and muttered something.  
  
"I apologise, Mr Malfoy. I didn't quite catch that."  
  
Malfoy turned his face towards his Head of House. "Potentium," he sighed.  
  
"Mobilicorpus," Madam Pomfrey commanded with a flick of her wand. Both she and the stretcher-bound Malfoy began to move towards the door.  
  
"Cheers for ditching the robes, Weasley. It was definitely my pleasure," he called back.   
  
Madam Pomfrey sqeaked indignantly and began to loudly and vigorously berate him for his "incorrigible behaviour and utterly unacceptable comments... proper, good young witches... foul-mouthed boys... never married... better breeding than that... mother appalled..."  
  
Snape sniggered as he moved towards the door himself. "Woman is a veritable harpy when her 'sensibilities' have been offended. Off with you then." Ginny stared at him.   
  
He was being almost civil.   
  
_Must have gotten coshed by a jar in the explosion_.  
  
He stopped and looked round at his shambles of a classroom. "Bloody little menaces, the lot of them," he muttered. "I ought to quit before one of the incompetent little bastards manages to kill me. Weasley! Move it! Out!" He sighed, his shoulders slumped wearily. "I'll deal with this mess later."


	2. A Discovery Worth Its Weight in Galleons

Downfall

Rating: 'R' for language, innuendo and sexual situations

Summary: Ginny discovers mirrors and paintings are not the only inanimate objects that speak at Hogwarts. Oh, yeah. She also gets to rummage through Draco Malfoy's room. (wink) I wonder what she'll find?

Disclaimer: _Sigh. I repeat_. We've all read enough fanfiction to know this. But in case you've been hit with a Memory Charm recently, here it is. Harry Potter, and everything that exists in his universe, belong to J.K. Rowling and those that publish her work. I only get to claim the gaping plot holes.

Chapter Two: A Discovery Worth Its Weight in Galleons

_I'm arguing with a statue. Oh Merlin, please just end my misery now_.

"Well I don't care if you have the passcode, you silly little girl. You are not the Head Boy, you are not on the list of witches and wizards the Head Boy said I am to grant entry to, and your colouring is far too garish for you to be a house elf here to clean."

Ginny eyed the statue of Salazar Slytherin menacingly. "If you don't let me in this instant, I will hex you into oblivion."

"Bah. What do you take me for, a fool? I am school property; if you harm me, you'll be punished most grievously. Now go away."

"Why won't you let me in?" Ginny wailed, frustrated almost to the point of tears."I'm just trying to get clothes for Malfoy. Snape said I have to, and I'm sure if I don't he'll just use it as an excuse to dock Gryffindor more points than we can earn in a month. I already told you. Malfoy was hurt and had to go to the hospital wing, so he can't come here himself. Please?"

"Gryffindor? I should have known." The statue, remarkably, snorted in disgust. "If that is the truth, then why isn't the Head of my house here in young Malfoy's stead?" the statue replied smugly, it's granite face creaking and groaning with the effort required to look so superior.

Heaving a sigh, Ginny retold the entire story of what happened in the Potions classroom, minus Malfoy's 'appreciation' of certain parts of her anatomy. "... and that's why Malfoy isn't here, or Snape, or the Headmaster, or anyone else on your bloody list."

"What's your family name, you impertinent girl?"

"Weasley. But what does that have to do with anything?" Ginny stood against the far wall and glared at the vexing statue, fingers convulsing around her wand.

"Why didn't you say you were a pure-blood, child? I was just ensuring that I did not mistakenly allow the wrong sort into the room. What did you say the passcode was again?"

"Potentium," Ginny ground out.

"Which means what, dear girl?"

"Power."

"Do you understand the lesson I was teaching you?"

"Enlighten me. Please." Ginny thought, _I really have to owl Fred and George. I'm sure they'll know a way to destroy a statue without getting caught._ She smiled darkly, imagining the ugly old face in thirteen different pieces, each of which she would feed happily to the Giant Squid.

"One is helpless without power. If you do not have it, you must seize it."

And, with a horrible grating noise, the statue shifted to reveal a narrow corridor. She marched through it, pausing to give the middle finger to the offending statue, and came out in a large living area.

Ginny looked round the room sourly.

_My payment for being a good person, I suppose. I should have left him there to bleed to death. That's what Ron and Harry would have done. Unless Hermione was there. She would nag them into helping him, I'm sure_.

Shaking her head, Ginny took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders a few times for good measure. It helped her to calm down a bit. She pictured fuzzy bunnies, the time Neville was turned into a giant canary, and the bizarre hat Luna had taken to wearing at any quidditch match Gryffindor was playing, except against Ravenclaw, of course. Finally back in a frame of mind that didn't include the demise of anything to do with Salazar Slytherin or Draco Malfoy, she began to laugh. After all, the situation was rather ridiculous.

_But still. Why on earth would Draco Malfoy, of the nasty disposition and even more foul prejudices, notice how I look? First he ogles me from very close range, then he has the nerve to announce to everyone in earshot that my breasts are the reason any boy even looks at me. And as my reward for not letting the great prat die, I have the distinguished honour of fetching Draco Malfoy's pants and toothbrush._

She giggled, picturing Ron's face as she told him. _Oh yes, Ron, I just rummaged through all his drawers, looking at his pants. That is, right after I had a nice long chat with a statue of Salazar Slytherin. Why? He asked if I was pure-blooded, and, oh. Why I was in Malfoy's room, rifling through his things. Right. Well. In between bleeding all over everyone trying to help him and admiring my breasts- well, I did accidentally stick his face in them..._ That would most certainly not go over well.

She looked round the room again. It really was rather nice. Very posh.

A big, squashy sofa was situated by the fireplace, a book lying upside down on the floor next to it. Curious, she picked it up and glanced at the gold-lettering on the spine. _'Classical Heroes and the Tragedies That Befell Them'_. She snorted loudly in the quiet room. If this was Malfoy's idea of a little light reading before bed, he was a bit more of a weed than he would like anyone to know. She gently laid the book back down and wandered over to the bed. Surprisingly, his bedclothes weren't made of silk. Or even satin. They were the softest cotton she had ever felt. Cool and smooth, they slipped underneath her fingers with the barest of whispers.

The voice in her head gasped in delight. _Ooh, I would die to sleep in a bed like this! Wait - this is Malfoy's bed. Yuk. Scratch that_.

_But it would be so soft!_ The other voice, her "bad" side, countered. _There's one sure way to sleep in this bed, you know. And that part would be over in 20 minutes or so, if Dean was anything to go by..._

The first voice screamed in frustration. _Shut up! Traitor. That's what you are, a traitor. Dean is a good person. And he was always very sweet and courteous with me. He even waited until I was ready to be intimate; he never pushed. He was just nervous, that's all. He wanted to make it special for me._

_All twenty-four times? Come on now; don't lie to yourself, it's bad for one's credibility. It takes me longer to file my nails than it does Dean to, ahem, finish. 'Special', indeed. How many orgasms, hmm? One? Oh yes, that boy's certainly a stud. Now don't go shrieking about this, but I bet Malfoy would make it a whole lot more interesting._

_WHAT? _

_What did I say about the shrieking?_ Her "bad" voice complained. _Anyway, I was just saying_.

Ginny, standing over Draco Malfoy's bed, listening to two voices battle it out in her mind, closed her eyes and repeated something she read from a book her father had gotten at a boot sale. "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." _I haven't any subconscious motives. Just admiring the material. Really._

She shook her head. _Arguing with myself. Speaks highly of my mental stability, I'm sure_. With a last longing glance at the bed, Ginny made her way to the wardrobe in the corner. Yanking open the doors, she peered inside. And saw a solid wall of black. _Merlin's beard!_ _He has more robes than Lavender and Parvati combined!_ Pushing the robes and their hangers as far to the side as possible, she found the drawers stacked on the left-hand side. She pulled a set of nightclothes from the top shelf, setting them to the side. After a thorough search of the drawers, she had a button-collared shirt and socks, but no pants.

_Well I'll be gored by a graphorn! He hasn't any! Draco Malfoy, it appears, does not wear pants!_

Oh, this was priceless.

His toiletry bag sat on a little pedestal by the mirror, next to an extremely large bottle of Sleekeasy's Hair Potion. _Mustn't look untidy. Every last hair shellacked in place before he goes up to breakfast._ Ginny snickered as she tried to stuff the bottle into his toiletry bag. The stupid thing was too big, so she took it back out. She put both with the pile of clothes, and after a moment's consideration, pulled a pair of trousers and a set of fresh robes from the wardrobe. Since he wouldn't be attending classes for a couple of days, she figured he could do without a clean uniform jumper and necktie.

With a last envious glance round the room, Ginny piled everything in her arms and walked out.

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"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar" has been attributed to Dr Sigmund Freud, although it never appeared in any of his writings.

A/N: For some odd reason, the French Guard from the Holy Grail morphed into the statue of Salazar Slytherin. Ah, the scorn of the French Knight; it makes me chuckle just thinking about it (If you haven't the slightest idea what I'm talking about, smack your head against the nearest wall three times and promptly move to your local video store. Monty Python and the Holy Grail. You won't be sorry. You have my word.). Who am I to turn down not-so-subtle help from the comedic geniuses that wrote that scene?

Arthur: Go and tell your master that we have been charged by God with a sacred quest. If he will give us food and shelter for the night he can join us in our quest for the Holy Grail.

French Guard: Well, I'll ask him, but I don't think he'll be very keen... Uh, he's already got one, you see?

Arthur: What?

Galahad: He says they've already got one!

Arthur: Are you sure he's got one?

French Guard: Oh, yes, it's a- very nice [Turns to the other guards and says] I told him we already got one.

Other guards: [Laugh hysterically]

Arthur: Well, um, can we come up and have a look?

French Guard: Of course not! You are a-English types!

_Less tea. I must drink less tea. In the way of caffeine lies madness, I swear it to you_.


	3. Head Games

Summary: 11 August- Happy Birthday, Ginny! Here's your present. Another D/G scene, and wands don't seem to be the only things shooting off sparks (Wink wink). Ginny learns the basic theories of Freud the hard way and, in a feat almost too incredible for words, manages to stick both feet in her mouth. Meanwhile, Draco whines and throws insults in his typically charming way. Not so typically, he finds that not every Weasley is completely repugnant. Is he serious, or just setting the stage for a sneaky plan of his?

Disclaimer: Not mine. J.K. Rowling owns them all (but it's fun to pretend, isn't it?).

A/N: Many thanks to my betas, Evil Red Guava (I chuckle at your name every time; it's like visual happiness) and Paige. You guys rock. I know Draco is slighty OC, but I don't care. He's MUCH more fun this way. And I promise to put him back as snarky and petty as ever. Check out the bottom of the page for individual goodies and a teaser of what's to come in the next few chapters. I'm happily shocked (I admit it, I jumped around and squealed in delight when I saw all the reviews.) at how many people were nice enough to click the purple button at the bottom. Much love to you all!

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Chapter Three: Head Games

"Stop being so petulant, Mr Malfoy! The first years whine less than you do. Now drink that potion!"

Ginny entered the hospital wing to see Madam Pomfrey standing at the foot of a curtained-off bed, her arms akimbo.

"But it smells vile. Can't I have a glass of pumpkin juice to wash it down with?" came Malfoy's beseeching voice from the other side of the curtains.

"Oh, very well." Madam Pomfrey glared sternly at the bed. "You'll take your medicine then and be done with it?"

"Yes."

"Fine." She pushed the beaker of medicine at him and stalked away, presumably for the pumpkin juice.

Ginny walked over to the area Malfoy's whining was emitting from, edged around the curtains, and dumped his things into the chair next to the bed. "Well, here you are. Hope that's everything, because if it's not, you're flat out of luck." She turned toward the bed to say goodbye. "I..."

Malfoy was propped up in the bed, braced against a mound of pillows, hair wildly mussed, bare from the waist up except for a swath of bandaging around the upper right portion of his chest. She stared, absently noting the crinkly blond hair arrowing down his belly and disappearing beneath the bed-sheets.

_Funny, I always pictured him as the hairless sort. Well, not actually pictured. More a passing thought, really. But the view is rather nice, no?_

_Aargh! Stop it! No more thoughts about Malfoy as a human being, let alone a male. Got it? _

_You know, he's not nearly as scrawny and anemic-looking as Ron paints him. No denying he's lean, but no more so than Harry. Athletic is the word I'm looking for. _

_Stop! Please! No more of this! _

_Sleek. Kind of nice, not all big and hulky like that pillock of an ex of mine, Dean; in fact, I'd say he's almost good-looking. Big heavy-lidded grey eyes, sharp, widely-spaced cheekbones, nose straight as a knife blade, lips just made for-_

_ENOUGH! My brain! Get out, or shut up, or something! _

_I said almost handsome, didn't I? Not really, but there's something there. And stop with the yelling, it's irritating. By the by, seeing as how I am you, that makes this our brain. Not yours. I'm the id, the 'inner Ginny', for lack of a better name._

_Oh, really? Well then, inner Ginny, who am I?_

_You're 'conscience Ginny'. The superego._

_The what?_

_The superego. The stick-in-the-mud who tries to ruin all of my fun._

_And who, precisely, is the one breathing?_

_That's Ginny, you gormless cow. She's the whole package. We_ _are part of her unconscious. _

A slight pause._ Oh. _

Ginny stood there, staring at a mostly naked boy she had always thought of as her enemy, and realised that all he was wearing under the sheet was a pair of trousers. Her stomach began to do very strange things.

"Weasley? Hullo, Weasley, welcome back to reality. Having trouble resisting my charms?" Malfoy smirked, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

_You have no idea, cupcake. Actually, I was wondering why you don't seem to own certain undergarments. Must get a bit draughty playing quidditch._

_STOP. Oh shit. There was an interesting piece of imagery. _"No! I was just thinking about why you don't ... erm, I mean when I was gathering your things, I couldn't find any, er ... never mind." _Oh. Bloody. Hell. Come on Ginny, think before you open your mouth._

Malfoy looked at her appraisingly for a long moment, a predatory smile gliding over his features. Softly, he asked, "Would you like to know why you couldn't find any?"

Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey came bustling back at that moment, glass in hand. Ginny heaved a sigh of relief, thanking whatever higher power that gave the nurse such fabulous timing.

"Here you are, Mr Malfoy. Drink up." Madam Pomfrey looked from her patient to the petite redhead next to him, noting the blush on her cheeks and her downcast eyes. "Miss Weasley, thank you for collecting his things. It was most gracious of you," she said kindly.

Choking noises, followed by a strangled gasp, came from the direction of the bed. "Ugh! Disgusting! What sort of poison WAS that?"

Both women turned to stare at Malfoy, his face twisted into an expression of utter revulsion as he gulped down the entire glass of pumpkin juice.

Madam Pomfrey, quite offended, retorted, "Poison! That is a Flesh-Knitting Potion mixed with a Blood Regenerating Draught, as you very well know! Poison, indeed! Hmph. Not even a thank-you. Now, I'm retiring for the evening." She pointed at Malfoy. "Which means you are as well. Say your goodbyes and be off, Miss Weasley. He needs rest. Good night." She glared at Malfoy a moment longer before turning on her heel and stalking to the end of the ward, where her rooms were.

"I- I hope you feel better, Malfoy. G'night." Ginny had turned away and taken only a few steps when she heard him whisper, as though the word was painful. "Wait."

Ginny paused and turned around, afraid of what he might say next.

"Why did you help me?" he asked seriously, brow furrowed and lower lip caught between his teeth. "What do you want?"

Ginny sighed, suddenly sad in the face of his suspicions. _I guess that's what happens when you grow up a Malfoy_. "I don't want anything, Malfoy. You may be a rude, nasty git, but you were injured. You needed help."

He shifted, trying to lie down, and she saw him wince in pain. Without thinking about her actions, she moved back to the bed and rearranged the pillows behind him so he could lie back comfortably.

Softly, his voice so low she could barely hear him, he asked, "And do you always help those in need? Even if they are supposed to be your enemies?"

Somehow, his questions sounded dangerous to her ears, laced with some hidden meaning. Ginny shrugged and looked at his face. He was gazing at her with those hooded eyes, seeming to search for something.

He held her eyes captive, piercing the sherry-coloured depths with his shadowed eyes. His voice was still soft and dangerous as he asked his next question. "Need to feel needed, do you?" He paused for one long moment. "I understand you better than you think, Weasley."

_What sort of cryptic comment was that? What is he playing at? _"I'm a Prefect, Malfoy. It's my job. Good night." He continued to hold her gaze. She felt a light touch against the delicate inside of her wrist. Startled, she looked down at where he had brushed his fingers against her.

"We're not done with this conversation. Not by a long-shot. See you around, Weasley."

Unsettled by his strange behaviour, she whirled round to flee.

Malfoy leant back against his pillows, watching her lithe figure move quickly towards the door. Her coltish walk drew his gaze to her slim legs. He noted how long they seemed for someone as small as she was. He closed his eyes as the door banged shut, a wolfish smile playing about his lips.

He chuckled, thinking of a line from one of his favourite works of literature. '_Whirlwinds of tempestuous fire'. Milton sure knew his redheads._

Reaching over to the bedside table, Malfoy drew his wand. Pointing it at the lamp, Malfoy said a quick Extinguishing Spell and tossed the wand back in the general direction of the table. He readjusted the sheet around him and settled down to sleep._ Well, never was one for listening to Mum about dangerous things. Always did try to play with the fire in the drawing room as a child. Thought it would make a pretty pet, if only I could catch it. Those damn burns hurt every time. _

"_Fire that's closest kept burns most of all."_ Narcissa's melodious voice floated through his mind, speaking a line from a play she had read to him years ago.

When Draco was young and his father was out on business, his Mum used to take him into the library and let him pick a book for her to read to him. He would wander the room for many minutes, always very careful to choose one they hadn't already read. This was their special time together, when he could sit on her lap and get lost in a story without worrying if his father thought he was being silly and childish. They would sit and read together for hours, and when he was older, they would take turns reading aloud. One of his Mum's favourites was a chap named Shakespeare.

_He may have been a Muggle, but the bloke sure knew his women. Blaise is wrong, there's no way that man could have been a poofter._

* * *

A/N: The quotes Draco remembers at the end of this chapter are from, respectively: '_Paradise Lost'_, by John Milton and '_The Two Gentlemen of Verona'_, by Shakespeare. Two of my personal favourites, I have to admit. 

**Sneak Preview**: Ginny drags Hermione into this little battle of wills and puts a VERY evil plan into motion (Revenge is learned early in a large family of boys, remember.). We meet a snide and oh-so-loveable Blaise, who "accidently" spills the news of Ginny's plan to Draco. Who stomps off, of course. And, since I'm feeling generous (and hopefully the suspense will have you all reading and reviewing like mad!): A seething Draco corners a smug Ginny. Fireworks ensue. Any guesses on what happens? I'd love to hear them! (coughPressthePurpleButtoncough)

Thanks:

**Madison27**: (hug) You are awesome. And I can trust you to tell me if it sucks, which is something I need. I ramble, ya know? lol :) **Plum Blossoms**: My other big supporter. Much love to ya; you helped get me to actually let this fic out of our group. (-muses- maybe I'll direct any flames I get to you.) Just kidding. **Legolas-Obssesionist**: Your poor mum... lmao. As for the undies: dirrty! Okay, maybe I agree with you. But just a tiny bit. **seri-chan**: (indignant) Dean is not! :) He's just... clumsy. He'll learn. I agree, Salazar is the sh't! "What is your favourite colour?" "Green. No, no! Blue. Aargh!" **Napolean**: I love the 'woot!' I hereby adopt it. With your permission, of course. And no separating my head from my body. I promise, I'm driving my poor betas crazy with all the work I'm giving them. Much fun is coming your way. **Nicole**: Here you go, a brand new chappy just for you! **Lockeness**: I'll take Delusional!Draco over BroodyBadA$$!Draco any day. Much more fun to write. I can only take so much angst before I'm itching for something funny and light. **Wanna Huggle Edward Norton**: hmm, hipster. I like that word. Caution: Make sure the guy who's hair you're going to rub isn't your family's enemy. It makes life very complicated. **sweetjazzbabe**: Don't worry. Draco's true colours will shine through. Even writing a humour fic like this, I realise Draco is an arrogant spoilt prat. Not all fluffiness. I swear. **ForeverLaDonna**: Hehe. You are the only one worried about sweet, accident-prone Dennis (remember the Giant Squid?). I have plans for my bouncy little Gryffindor. (rubs hands together evilly) **Chaney**: Ha. I agree. Wait. Ha good or Ha bad? **NeonBlue21**: Thanks for the props. A perfectionist writing fanfic can be an ugly thing. Glad it's not too wordy, like I first thought. **Helen88UK**: I am now depending upon you to flame me the instant I make a dumb American mistake. I read your bio, my british friend. Haha! Free brit picking! And enjoy your holiday :) **Draco's gal**: Well, nowhere to go but up, I suppose. Hope you get more into it as the action builds. **Minchi**: Here it is! The update you demanded. I read your review and promptly sat down to write. I live to serve. :) **GypsyJade**: Bow before the Monty Python! All hail! (hehehe) I was absolutely tickled that John Cleese is Nearly-Headless Nick. **blissfulxsin**: Priceless? Wow, that's quite the compliment! Well, the story loves you, too! **Saikagrl**: Draco, the fount of snotty remarks and almost-witty reparte. I adore it. **Dido**: Yikes! Expectations! (looks around frantically) Seriously, that's one of the nicest things you could have written. (hug) Thanks! **Angel Black1**: Laughs are good. You need a few to cheer you up before going to the next angsty fic. Why does everyone want to write angst? More humour, I demand it! :) **Kaei**: Read the note to Dido. Ditto to you, dearie. A really good one? (big, big hug) And the details are what always snag me in fics, so I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't put them in there. No fear though, I'm not going to morph into Charled Dickens. ;P **power of the stars**: Yep. I keep getting hung up on that part, too. I promise though, there will be more to this story. **aoi-yuki-yume**: Laughing is good. It burns calories. So why am I gaining weight while I write this thing?! Oops, probably the carton of Ben and Jerry's next to me. Glad you like the fic. **moon-fan-101**: Aah. Monty Python does indeed rule. But didn't you like the story? (sniff) Sorry. I'm done feeling neglected now. ;) **Snapesmistress005**: Sigh. Salazar was a rare stroke of brilliance on my part. I doubt there'll be more anytime soon. So I'll cuddle him for awhile. He'll be back; he's way too much fun to write to be a one-shot... character? statue? -oh well, whatever he is. O-o

Hugs,

Katie (a.k.a. morning's broken angel)


	4. Plotting the Humiliation of an Insuffera...

A/N: I'm _so _sorry, everyone! My husband took me on a suprise vacation for almost three weeks. It was wonderful, I wish I was still out on that gorgeous beach. _Sigh. _As an apology, I've posted both chapters four and five.

For clarification, since there's been some confusion on it, Draco's lack of pants is in the British sense. Yep, as in no undergarments. Silly, I know. But much more fun to write! Also, don't start flaming. I know I promised D/G goodness, but I separated this into two chapters. It makes more sense this way. Chapter six is **ALL** D/G, I swear it. And it's _good._

Chapter Four: Plotting the Humiliation of an Insufferable Git

Ginny stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room, the portrait swinging closed behind her. She had used the walk back from the hospital wing to calm down, convincing herself that Malfoy was just messing with her head, trying to get the upper hand after the humiliation of her finding out he didn't wear pants. _Yes, that's exactly it. But no one messes with my head! The arrogant bastard. I'll show him how it's done properly._

People were scattered throughout the common room, playing games of Exploding Snap, doing prep at the tables, or just talking and laughing in small groups.

Ginny paused and surveyed the room. _Good, Dean isn't here. I really don't feel like hearing another explanation of how he tripped and fell face-first onto Vicky Frobisher, so when I came upon them, it APPEARED they were kissing. _

What she really felt like was telling him that Vicky was welcome to his kisses, as they made her feel rather ill these days. She still liked him, but in a different, more friendly way. After all, they had dated on-and-off for almost the last two years, and she had never felt anything more than a liking for him. After two years, she should have cared, if not deeply, then at least a little for him.

_I guess his interlude with Vicky was for the best. Made me see that we were only prolonging the inevitable. And Ron's ecstatic. He doesn't seem to like anyone I date, and I've had a boyfriend almost constantly for the last three years. Probably still hopes Harry and I will fall madly in love, have twelve babies, and live happily ever after. _Ginny smiled fondly, loving her brother in spite of his hopeless optimism about her romantic non-future with The Boy Who Lived.

She spied Ron and Harry in the corner, engrossed in a game of Wizarding Chess, Hermione curled up nearby in a chair, her nose buried in a book. _Life as usual. _Ginny walked in their direction, silently thankful that the two boys were oblivious to anything not on the board in front of them.

She stopped next to Hermione and tugged playfully on a hank of the older girl's bushy hair. Hermione looked up and smiled. "Hey, Gin."

"Can I talk to you for a second, Hermione?" Ginny glanced furtively at her brother and Harry. "Upstairs?"

"Sure. Is anything wrong?" Hermione uncurled her legs out from under her and stood, smoothing down her skirt and laying her book on a small table next to the chair. She looked back at Ginny, a small frown knitting her eyebrows together. "Where are your robes, Ginny?"

Ginny just shook her head and motioned for Hermione to follow her up the stairs. Once safely ensconced in Ginny's room, which was thankfully empty, they set themselves on the edge of her bed.

"Well, you know how Michael Corner and I had to monitor that detention with Snape tonight?" she started off. "There was an explosion."

Horrified, Hermione shot off the bed and began to gesture furiously with her hands whilst pacing the length of the room. "Oh _no_! What happened? I just knew I should have supervised that detention myself, but I desperately wanted an evening off, just one, and now look what happened. I'm the worst Head Girl ever! I should-"

"Hermione!" Ginny yelled over Hermione's wailing. She stood up and walked over to Hermione, grasping the taller girl's shoulder with one small hand, and pointed at the bed across from her. "Sit!"

Momentarily speechless, a docile Hermione sank back onto the bed and stared at Ginny. "Is everyone all right? Was anyone... injured?" she whispered hoarsely.

"A few bruises and scrapes were the worst of it for the students. Snape wanted blood though. He was shrieking like a banshee. Went completely nutters."

Hermione blew out a huge breath in relief. "So no one was seriously injured, then?"

"Well, mostly."

"Mostly?" Hermione looked thoroughly confused. "I thought you said a few scrapes and bruises were the worst of it?"

"Malfoy took a rather large chunk of glass to the chest." Ginny said bluntly. At the look on Hermione's now pale face, she hurried on. "He'll be fine though. That's what happened to my robes. We used it to staunch the bleeding."

Unreasonably irritated by the look of pity for Malfoy in Hermione's watery eyes, Ginny snapped, "Oh, stop it. Don't you dare cry. Madam Pomfrey said he'll be as good, or more accurately, bad, as ever in a few days. Besides, why should you care anyway? He's absolutely horrible to you!"

"Just because I dislike him doesn't mean I want to see him sliced to ribbons!" She said defensively. "Well, maybe having his voice box cut out would be nice... " Hermione sat on the edge of the bed across from Ginny, contemplating a mute Head Boy. _That would be the loveliest gift ever. _"Ooh, never mind. We're supposed to set the example for the rest of the school. You know that, Ginny."

Walking over to her bed, Ginny smoothed out the bedclothes. _Not half as nice as his_. Sigh. _Life could be so unfair._

"Setting a 'good example' didn't stop you from slapping the prejudice right out of him a few years back," Ginny retorted.

"Ginny! I'll have you know I was very stressed that year. My timetable was completely full, we were worried about Harry and Sirius, and there were all of those dementors around." She paused and gave a delicate shudder. "I think we need to listen to the Sorting Hat now and strive for a little unity. After all-"

"I know, Hermione. Trust me, I know. That's partially why I didn't leave that spoilt git laying in a pool of blood in the corner." Ginny settled herself back on her bed and drew up her legs, wrapping her arms around them. "Here's the kicker. Professor Snape made me collect Malfoy's things from his room and take them up to the hospital wing."

"You were in his room?"

"Oh, yes. Of course, getting in there was an interesting exercise in and of itself. Did you know there's a talking statue of Salazar Slytherin that guards the entrance to Malfoy's room? It's evil. And very, very rude. Told me my 'colouring was too garish to be a house elf'. Garish!" Ginny sniffed.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask exactly where that non-sequitur had come from, but then thought better of it. _Ginny certainly has a unique way of telling stories_, she mused.

"But I'm getting off-topic. Remind me to owl Fred and George later, won't you? I have a pressing question for them." She paused as Hermione nodded at her. "Where was I? Oh, yes. Anyway, Malfoy tried his little head games on me when I brought him his things and managed to aggravate me enough to give him back a little of his own. I think what I found out is just the thing to keep him from harassing Ron and Harry quite so much. He'll be far too busy dodging Hogwart's Horniest."

Ginny paused dramatically. With a flourish of her hands she announced, "Draco Malfoy, upon close inspection of his wardrobe, hasn't any pants."

Hermione goggled at her, mouth hanging open in a rather unbecoming manner. "WHAT?"

Ginny grinning cheekily, responded, "Not a y-front to be found."

Hermione scratched her cheekbone thoughtfully, a sly grin curving across her face. Her brown eyes sparkled mischievously as she regarded Ginny. "So. Lavender or Parvati?"

Ginny grinned back. "Both. But I think I'll pass it on to Pansy Parkinson, too... hmm, no, she's probably well aware already. How about girls that want to have a bit of revenge?" she mused. "Luna. No, no, I don't think she would do anything. But I bet Padma would, she's still brassed off about all of the house points he took from Ravenclaw during his stint in the Inquisitorial Squad. Ooh, Millicent Bulstrode! You know how he jinxed her weight reducing potions at the beginning of term? I think she'll appreciate this chance to even up the score."

"Evil." Hermione's face was lit with admiration, not reproof, as she laughed at the look Ginny was wearing. The self-satisfied smirk was, ironically, eerily reminiscent of Draco Malfoy himself.

"I prefer ingenious and brilliant, thank you."

"So why the sudden interest in Malfoy's humiliation?" The corner of Hermione's mouth quirked. "Not that I'm complaining. It's most deserved, in my opinion. I want the whole story, not the quick brush-off version, Ginny. It has to be good if you're going this far to make him suffer."

"Promise you won't breathe a word of this to Harry or my brother. If they find out, there won't be enough pieces of Malfoy left to bury."

"Of course."

Ginny wriggled across the bed until she was leaning back against the bedpost and began to tell the story from the beginning.

"HE SAID WHAT?!" Hermione yelped, hand flying to her throat.

"I know. I think he was delusional. And right in front of Snape and Madam Pomfrey. I could have died on the spot."

"What did you do?"

"Threatened to push that piece of glass through a vital organ, I think."

Ginny shook her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks at the memory. "Dead embarrassing. And when I was holding his shoulders and arms down so Madam Pomfrey could pull the glass out, I accidentally leant too far forward, and smothered him with my chest. I think his precise wording was 'suffocated by two luscious breasts. Professor Snape, see that my tombstone is inscribed with that.' I swear, Hermione, I could have hexed him into a horklump."

She huffed angrily, tossing her long fiery hair back over her shoulders. "Delirious from losing all of that blood, I tell you. But revenge is sweet. Madam Pomfrey, bless her heart, took that as her cue to pull out the glass, and he screamed like a baby that dropped its dummy. Turned whiter than Peeves, too. Just as nice, in my opinion, was when she gave him the mother of all dressing-downs for talking to me like that as they were leaving."

"Ron is going to kill him."

Ginny glared at her pointedly. "Ron is NOT going to find out."

Hermione laughed. "Right. You're going to tell Lavender and Parvati and not expect the whole school to know?"

"Bugger. You're right." Ginny paused thoughtfully, her light-brown eyes shining. "I just won't tell them that part," she said triumphantly.

"So what happened when you brought his clothes up to him?" Hermione prodded, thinking how vibrant Ginny seemed. Her eyes sparkled, her face was flushed; it was almost like she was... _No. No way. Maybe she's just really excited about Malfoy getting treated with a taste of his own medicine. Maybe. Hopefully. _

Ginny sat back up on the bed and began to pick at a loose string on her skirt. _Aside from drooling over his chest hair, of all things? _"Well, I was taking the mickey out of him for the pants thing, and-"

"You TOLD him?!" Hermione shrieked.

"Of course," Ginny said, looking at Hermione as if she was slow. "Couldn't very well pass up an opportunity like that. May I continue?" she asked archly.

Hermione fluttered her hands. "By all means."

"I said good night and that I hoped he felt better, he asked why I helped him and then tried to psychoanalyse me, so I started to leave. He muttered that this conversation wasn't over by a long shot, and I left. That's it. Very anticlimactic."

"He threatened you?"

"No, I don't think so. He seemed more... determined. Very un-Malfoy."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing, Gin. Just thinking is all. Shouldn't we go find Lavender and Parvati now? I think they were going to see Professor Trelawney before dinner."

Ginny giggled. "Lets."


	5. Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen

Chapter Five: Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen

Draco had just left the hospital wing and was making his way down the corridor, his things stuffed in an old satchel Madam Pomfrey had found floating behind him.

He paused a moment, gingerly touching the spot on his chest where the glass had been. The wound was gone, but a faint scar remained. Madam Pomfrey said the potion was able to fix the internal damage, but an injury like that needed the attention of a mediwizard specialising in non-magical accidents to be completely eradicated. He readjusted the sling around his arm, grimacing as he felt the flesh pull. It was still slightly sore, and he was feeling rather cranky because of it. _Maybe I'll run across some Gryffindors I can take points from. Or a few Hufflepuffs to scare. That'll make me feel better._

Draco had just rounded the corner and was headed for the stairs when a familiar figure swung into sight. The tall, dark-haired boy sauntered towards him, whistling tunelessly.

"Alright, there, you poor excuse for a man? Heard you decided to paint old Snape's floors red last night."

Draco sneered at Blaise Zabini and waved his wand in the stockier boy's direction. The satchel smacked into him, knocking the air out of him with an audible "oof!".

"Heard you decided to bounce Tracey Davis' skull against your headboard the other night, Zabini."

Blaise put the satchel down next to him and began to studiously examine his fingernails. "Where'd you hear that load from? Wouldn't touch that slag with another wizard's wand."

Draco tilted his head back so he was looking down his nose at his housemate and drawled, "That's odd, because when I went to get my Transfiguration notes from Goyle the other night, I saw the two of you sprawled out under your duvet. I'd fix that hanging on the right side of your bed, Blaise. Don't want people seeing things they shouldn't, you know."

Blaise just laughed, a great booming sound that echoed in the empty corridor. "Glad you didn't kick it, Draco. Things would get boring without your, shall we say charming?, sidebar comments."

"Like those, do you?"

"Oh, yes. But not as much as some tasty gossip circulating through the Great Hall earlier." This was said with a toothy grin, transforming the darker boy's face from aristocratic to downright handsome. _No mystery how he gets the women, that's for damn sure._

"Such as?" Draco prompted. Blaise was silent a moment, dragging out the anticipation with relish.

"Well, it seems one Miss Ginny Weasley had the nerve to corner Milli Bulstrode on her way out after lunch."

"That's your big news, Zabini? Bulstrode could squash that little girl with one fat fist. Pathetic."

"Actually, your red-haired saviour had some interesting news to deliver to our sweet Milli."

Draco glared at the smug-looking Blaise. "Am I going to have to torture you for you to let fall a little more information?"

"Ironic wording, my friend. You do realise Milli is still very cross with you for that stunt with her weight reducing potions, don't you? Forgot about that, hmm? Oh all right, Draco, put your wand away. You wouldn't want to hex me right now anyway, trust me. Weasley told her of your, er, disdain for certain articles of clothing. Milli, seeing her chance, magnified her voice and shared that bit of fun with everyone still in the Great Hall."

Draco gaped at his friend, horrified that something so personal was now common knowledge. _How am I supposed to be intimidating and fear-inducing when everyone is snickering about me as soon as my back is turned?! Dead. Weasley is dead! By the time I'm done with her, she'll wish she had never crossed a Malfoy! I'll show Weasley what retribution really is. _

"Wait, it gets better. Then Milli offered 50 galleons to the first person, male or female, to offer up physical proof of your, erm- clothing preferences. That girl, Loony Lovegood I think her name is, is apparently friends with Weasley. She yelled to Milli that she was sure her father would publish any photographic results in the 'Wizard Personality Profile of the Week' section of his magazine."

Blaise smiled beatifically. "So, mate. Not so bad, eh? A little publicity for our venerable Head Boy."

Draco stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Oh, yeah. Almost forgot. On my way out I overheard those Gryffindor tarts, Brown and Patil- you know the ones I'm talking about, right?- hatching a plan to 'get the goods'. Their words, not mine. Hope you like women half as much as you like those chocolates your Mum sends you, because the female population of Hogwarts is going to be after you like a hungry nundu in a Muggle village." Blaise paused, tapping a long slender finger against his temple. "Come to think of it, the ladies hounding you won't be so bad; it'll be fending off the benders trying to find out. There are a handful of them around here, don't you know."

Blaise snickered at the look of horror on Draco's face. Smirking so hard his face hurt, he threw a blithe little wave at the blond as he turned and strolled away. If he had to bet his entire family fortune on one thing, it would be that Ginny Weasley would be seeing Draco Malfoy have one of his infamous fits of temper. And soon, by the looks of things as Draco stormed by him.

"Oof!" The satchel hit Blaise in the back of the head.


	6. Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon

A/N: Well, here it is, finally. A chapter that's ALL Draco and Ginny and passion (I'm not saying what kind of passion, though!). I ended up revising this chapter a few times, because it just didn't feel right. This is close to what I wanted, though, so I figured I'd post before someone mauled me.

Sneak Peek: Next chapter (Chapter Seven) offers some interesting observations by two outside parties regarding Draco's reaction to a conversation between Harry and Ginny. You also will meet the Slytherins as I see them in my head. _Sigh_. They're **so** much fun to write! Plus, the first attempt at 50 galleons by intrepid, greedy students. And a twist at the end for all of you cliffy lovers!

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Oops! I forgot the disclaimer for the last two chapters. Please don't sue. J.K. Rowling created and owns them all. I'm just amusing myself until Book Six is published.

* * *

Chapter Six: They Say Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon

Ginny skipped her way down the West Staircase to the Great Hall, quite pleased with herself. She was on her way back from the Ravenclaw Common Room, where she had told a gleeful Padma the news about their esteemed Head Boy and Millicent Bulstrode's offer at lunch.

Padma, with her hair pulled back tightly in a chignon and a calculating smile on her face, thanked Ginny and rushed off, claiming to have "something, erm, important to do."

Ginny cackled as she cleared the bottom stair, giddily anticipating the mayhem she was likely causing. She glanced longingly at the doors to the Great Hall, noting dinner wouldn't begin for another hour. She sighed as she turned the corner and headed for Gryffindor Tower.

A hand shot out from an alcove, grasping her upper arm painfully. Ginny yelped and tried to reach for her wand, only to have the movement blocked, her attacker's hand swinging her captive arm around, deflecting her efforts. Before she had time to scream or to try to stamp on her assailant's feet, she was being dragged towards the staircase that led up to Gryffindor Tower.

Noting the sling and the silvery-blond hair of her captor, Ginny stopped struggling.

_A chance to flaunt my victory in his face? I must have done something to please the fates. He got wind of this awful quick; I wonder who told him? Ah well, the chance to rub this in his face is well worth the arse-chewing it looks like I'm about to get._

When they had bypassed the staircase and instead were walking straight at the wall, Ginny balked. Yanking her arm back, she forced him to halt since he wouldn't release her.

"What, you're going to bash my head against the wall until I apologise for livening up your dreary existence?"

Malfoy hissed back at her, through lips so tightly compressed they seemed to have a Sticking Charm on them, "I should love to. In fact, I could say it's something I desire above all else right now. But my main purpose was to take this... discussion, someplace that offers a little privacy." He eyed her angrily. "Enough of my personal business is being bandied about already."

He swung her about and roughly shoved her forward. Ginny was about to protest and remark on how his unique notion of privacy included open areas near well-travelled staircases when she stopped. Squinting in the dim light, she made out the vague shape of a door.

"In there?" she asked incredulously. "A broom cupboard? You can't be serious. How cliched."

Malfoy was glaring at her so hard she was afraid his eyes would cross at any moment. She sniffed disdainfully and tossed her hair in annoyance as she moved forward and turned the knob, flouncing into the dusty little room.

Nostrils flaring, Malfoy stepped in behind her and slammed the door as hard as he could. Unfortunately for him, the seldom-used lock failed to catch. The door sprang right back, knocking him in the mouth.

After muffledly cursing and covering his battered lips for a full minute or two, he drew his wand and hexed the offending door with most every curse she had ever heard of for another five minutes.

Ginny settled back comfortably on an overturned crate, enjoying the fireworks._ Poor Malfoy is having a bad couple of days, isn't he? Well, hang on tight, ferret-boy, it'll get alot worse before it gets better. _She couldn't hold back a snicker at the thought.

Malfoy whirled round, wand raised and a crazed look in his flashing eyes. He was panting with exertion, his normally neatly-styled pale hair sticking up haphazardly.

Ginny opened her mouth to comment, but self-preservation made her change her mind. _Doesn't exactly look the picture of rationality right now, does he?_

"_Accio Weasley's wand!_"

Ginny, her guard down as she laughed at the sight in front of her, responded too slowly. Her wand slipped from her desperately grasping fingers and soared straight to Malfoy.

Nimbly catching it with the same hand that held his own wand, he reached above his head and placed both wands on a high shelf next to the door, one she couldn't reach even if she jumped.

Ginny stared at him a moment, her eyes huge with sudden fear, before she opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could.

He just stood there, wincing slightly at the racket she was making, and let her scream until her throat was burned raw and she was dizzy from the lack of air.

"Pay closer attention, Weasley. One of the spells I hit the door with was a Silencing Charm."

As he spoke, her eyes darted to the door, trying to think of a way to get past him.

"Please, Weasley. Use your head," he jeered. "I'm insulted. Do you really think I didn't use a personalised Locking Charm? Figured out how to modify Locking Charms during summer hols between fourth and fifth year. Quite handy, I'd say." He shifted his weight and removed the sling from around his neck, dropping it carelessly to the floor.

So, have an eventful day thus far?" he asked blandly, stretching his arms languidly.

"Do anything... interesting?" he continued, as he advanced on her.

Ginny scrambled up, knocking the crate over in her haste. She scuttled as far away from him as she could until her back hit something solid. He stalked her, mirroring her every change of direction, moving as gracefully as a Siberian Tiger tracking its prey.

She looked left and right, but all possible routes of escape were blocked. When she turned back towards Malfoy, desperately trying to think of a plan to get out of this mess, she found he was standing directly in front of her.

He inclined his head until they were nose to nose and she could clearly see the angry fire burning in his molten eyes.

His lips were only millimetres from her own. "Make any new friends, perhaps?" he whispered.

She summoned up a previously unknown quantity of courage and laughed in his face.

"You know, Malfoy, it's hard to take attempts at intimidation seriously from someone with a puffed-up lip." She smiled nastily. "You seem to be getting banged up an awful lot lately. Maybe you should think about staying in your room until this bad luck runs out."

He snarled and pinned her shoulders to the wall, leaning in until his breath fanned her cheeks. "Don't push me, Weasley. I've had about all I can take."

"Too bad, Malfoy. It's about to get alot more interesting around here. You should be thanking me. I inadvertantly may have enriched your love life." She jammed her hands against his torso and shoved him, with no result.

"My sex life doesn't need any help, little girl. It's stellar as is."

The anger emanating off of him was almost tangible. She felt her courage slipping away, and took one last crack at matching him shot-for-shot.

"Parkinson doesn't count, Malfoy. She's the village broomstick and everyone knows it. Even Goyle could have her if he wanted."

His eyelids drooped as he silkily replied, "Offering to take her place, Princess?"

Ginny froze as he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "Are you as fiery in the bedroom as you are in a broom cupboard?"

Panicked, Ginny did the only thing she could think of. She punched him exactly where she remembered a large chunk of glass sticking out of his skin.

Draco gasped, but caught hold of her shoulders again almost immediately. "You'll pay for that, you little hellcat."

"Malfoy, stop. Please." She begged, trying a different tact. "I was just so angry at the way you tried to mess with my head in the hospital wing, and the things you said in the dungeons-"

"Bloody hell, Weasley," he bit out, exasperated. "I was bleeding to death. Do you think I had any idea of what I was saying down there?" He leered at her as he ran one finger along the outer curve of a breast. "But they are nice, even if they're attached to a psychotic, poor little Muggle-lover."

She willed herself to squeeze out a few tears, hoping for the helpless-little-girl look. Lower lip quivering, she sobbed, "P-Please let me go. I-I-I'll fix everything, I promise. Just let me go." Her voice trailed off slowly, until the last part was no more than a faint whispered plea.

Disgusted, the red haze that had clouded his head began to evaporate. As Draco looked at her, cowering and sniffling, he was disgusted with himself. _Well, Father, looks like you got your wish after all. I'm turning into a perfect replica of you. Minus the snivelling to a vanquished Dark Lord. And the 430 year prison sentence, of course. Call me Lucius, Part Two. _He whirled away from her. Stalking to the adjacent wall, he drew back his fist and furiously slammed it into the stone.

"Get out."

Ginny looked from under her lashes, not daring to hope he was actually buying this. "I-I can't reach my wand."

He cursed violently and brushed past her. Reaching up for both wands, he threw hers at her.

She stood staring at him with huge terrified eyes, not moving.

_I hate her. _His stomach twisted painfully. _Okay. More accurately, I hate her like this, although it would take a serious bout of torture to actually drag that information from my lips. I almost enjoyed sparring with her._ It sparked something in him; something that tormenting Potter and his worshippers, riding roughshod over his housemates and even making Head Boy failed to stir. He felt the throbbing of his hand. He felt alive. But watching this pathetic shell that whimpered and cried only left him with the vague, bitter taste of disgust in his mouth.

She looked up to find him staring at her, his eyes filled with loathing.

He turned sharply and lifted the Locking Charm from the door. Wheeling, he strode back to her, grabbed her arm, and in a perverse re-creation of their journey into the room, shoved her sharply back out. He watched from the doorway as she stood there, shoulders slumped.

Ginny slowly straightened, and turned back to face him, a smile on her face.

"Please, Malfoy. Use your head," she threw his own words back in his face. "I'm insulted. Do you really think I would cry and beg someone like you? You deserve everything coming to you. You've made so many people's lives miserable here. This is mild in comparison. Cheers for opening the door, though. I really didn't know how I was going to get around that."

"You'll-"

"Yes, yes, I know. I'll pay for that. See you in the Great Hall. Dinner should be starting in a few minutes."

Ginny sashayed a few steps away before throwing over her shoulder, "Oh, and watch your backside, Malfoy. I hear there're a few guys... I mean, people, who are anxious to get those 50 galleons tonight. Good thing the Head Boy has a private room. I'd be careful in the Prefect's Bathroom, though."

_I am going to kill her. No, maim; that'll hurt more. No, then I'll have to listen to her hideous screaming again. I think good, old-fashioned psychological torture is the way to go here. But I have to admit, however much it pains me. She was good. I ate that load of shit up with a spoon. Well played, Weasley. Now it's my turn. _


	7. Ever Feel Like Someone Can See Right Thr...

A/N: Wow! This story has already gotten over one hundred reviews! And my very first attempt at fanfiction, at that. I'm shocked, and very, very happy. A most sincere thank-you to everyone that reviewed. It means quite alot to me, I assure you.

Now, I realise this is a great hulking bit of a never-ending chapter, but I couldn't find a place to break it off into two more manageable ones. One or the other always seemed to end up as 250 words or so. And I'm bright enough to know I'd be flamed into oblivion if I did that to you. So those of you that have limited time on the Internet, I apologise for your anticipated distress. Please don't hurt me. (grins sheepishly) Remember, I like you.

Also, (I know, I know. Shut up with the inane comments and get on with the story. I wonder if anyone actually peruses the A/Ns or skips directly to the good stuff?) later this week I'm going to upload a personal thank-you to all the reviewers since the last time. It's the polite thing to do, and always good to see your name praised, no? So the chapter alert is not going to be an actual chapter. If you read this, you won't flame. HA! Now I'll know who skips the A/Ns! Brilliant! (pats self on back)

Okay, I'm just rambling now. Enjoy!

Rating: R, still. I'm not sure what precisely constitutes R and PG-13, so the rating is precautionary. Any guidance you lot have would be fantastic.

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Still waiting for a Book Six release date. Still shamelessly tweaking J.K. Rowling's characters for my own amusement.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Ever Feel Like Someone Can See Right Through You?

Ginny strolled into the crowded Great Hall.

As she entered, a cheer went up and many students began to let out whistles and shouts of appreciation. She grinned and dipped a swift curtsy before making her way over to the Gryffindor table._ Apparently, taking on Malfoy brings instant celebrity. I have to admit, it's kind of nice being the centre of attention. _

She had just swung a leg over the bench and sat down between Harry and Neville when a hush fell over the hall. Craning her neck to see over the taller people blocking her view of the entrance, she spotted Malfoy.

He slammed over to his place at the Slytherin table amidst much catcalling and shouldered Crabbe and Goyle apart, two bright spots of red flying high on his cheekbones.

She watched him give clipped replies to the remarks his housemates were making about something as he filled his plate from the dishes and trays in front of him. He still seemed furious, and Ginny couldn't blame him for that.

_How's it feel to know a Weasley got the best of you, hmm? And a girl, to boot. _Ginny's conscience began to nag at her in her mind. _Okay, okay, maybe I didn't exactly play fair. But Malfoy doesn't play fair, so I was just a step ahead of him, is all. It's apropos. What I've started helps make up for all of the hurtful, nasty things he's done to everyone here. And maybe he'll finally leave Harry and Ron alone now._

(Across the Great Hall...)

When Draco dropped into his place, he was immediately bombarded from all sides.

"Are you all right?" Crabbe asked around a mouthful of mash.

Draco shuddered at the revolting sight and checked his sleeves for any resultant spittle. "Peachy, you twit."

"Where's your sling?" from an annoying sixth year he couldn't remember the name of.

He replied snottily, "Not here, it would seem."

"Thought you were supposed to stay in bed until tomorrow?" a simpering Daphne Snodgrass queried, batting her stubby eyelashes.

Draco snorted, nastily thinking she would make an excellent match for Crabbe. "Like I'd listen to that harridan we call a nurse." _Ugh. Crabbe and Snodgrass. Those are two gene pools that should never merge. In fact, they should be barred from reproducing by law. Must remember to send an owl to the Ministry requesting legislation banning inadequate persons from mating. Ha! That should net me an Order of Merlin, Third Class, at the very least. Perhaps I have a future as a great humanitarian._

"I heard it was terrible!" squeaked a mousy blonde girl.

"Bloody awful, if you must know."

A glum Malcolm Baddock piped up from down the table. "Snape still doesn't know who caused the explosion, and he's locked down all the Slytherin fourth years until he gets a confession."

A brief silence followed that, as they all pondered their Head of House's vicious mood. Crabbe swallowed the enormous bite of food he had stuffed in his mouth. "Someone said you were saved by that Weasley girl?"

Unfortunately, this reminded Draco of the source of his current humiliation. He was so angry he began to shake with rage. A fine tremble ran along his hand as he viciously stabbed several slices of roast beef and transferred them to his plate.

Draco purposefully set down his fork and looked both ways down the table until he found the face he was looking for. Very slowly, taking the time to inject venom into every syllable, he said, "Bulstrode, how would you prefer to be killed?"

Her eyebrow rose higher and higher as each word cut through the chatter at the table like a knife. Placing both meaty forearms on the table, she smiled grimly. "You and what army, Malfoy? You had it coming, you git."

She nudged Theodore Nott next to her. He just stared at Draco, expressionless. Draco had always been a little wary of that one. There was a strange gleam in Nott's eyes that carried a sharp warning of swift and unrelenting retribution. _Bit unsteady, Nott is. Father always said Nott Sr's teapot was cracked. Looks to be hereditary. I should include him in the list of persons barred from having children._

Thinking better of it, Draco changed tacts. _After all, I can't very well ensure my own superior genes are passed on if Nott kills me in a fit of insanity_. He replied cajolingly, "Milli, I am always a git. That's my thing, what I'm renowned for. Come on; that tiny, middling little incident with your potions was only a friendly joke. Why'd you have to go and do something like this?"

She shrugged her massive shoulders. _Bulstrode should check out that muggle game. What is it? Bugby? No, no... rugby. Right. I bet she'd be world-class_. Draco tuned back in just as she opened her mouth to answer. "Seemed the thing to do at the time. Besides, it wouldn't do you any harm to come down a peg or two. And I think Weasley is an okay sort."

Tracey Davis giggled, drawing Draco's attention. A bored-looking Blaise sat with his head propped on one hand, the other somewhere beneath the table. _No doubt between Davis' legs._

"Sod it all, Zabini, some of us are trying to eat here! Can't you molest Davis later, preferably someplace where I don't have to watch?" Draco spat.

Blaise rolled his head lazily, until he was looking at Draco. Drolly, he replied, "What's wrong, love? Jealous? You know I'm always here for you, Draco. All you had to do was ask nicely."

Draco choked on the mouthful of pumpkin juice he was swallowing. "What?"

Blaise snorted with amusement and pulled a mock-disgusted face that he ruined by waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You're not my type, Draco, but I might be persuaded to change my mind."

Draco grimaced as he quipped, "Didn't know you had a type, Blaise. Thought you humped anything that walked on two legs. But really, Davis? Boy's got more toes than brain cells."

Pansy shrieked. "Blaise, you shagged Tracey? I thought you liked girls! What about..." She trailed off, red-faced.

Blaise shrugged a shoulder and raised his glass, eyeing Draco amusedly. "Touche, Malfoy. Nicely done." He leaned forward around Davis and gave Pansy a comforting pat on the hand. "Pansy, love, we were wonderful. I had a fantastic time. And I adore women. All women, you lovely creature, you. And some men, too. I prefer to keep my options open, is all."

Draco turned back to his meal, leaving Blaise to deal with a horrified Pansy and an equally horrified Tracey Davis. _Good luck getting out of this one, Blaise, you trouble-making bastard._

Next to him, Goyle very quietly asked, "Draco, why's she trying to hurt you?"

Draco paused and considered. He knew who Goyle was talking about immediately. Goyle wasn't part troll, like everyone assumed. Granted, he was big and loyal to him, and so had his uses for sheer intimidation. But he wasn't the half-wit he was thought to be.

Draco looked around before answering to find an avidly interested Pansy edging closer on the opposite bench. Catching her eyes, he warned her away with his expression. Pouting, she reluctantly turned to Tracey Davis and asked what he and Blaise do, exactly.

"You know how I got hurt in that explosion, don't you, Goyle?"

He nodded and continued to eat, not looking at Draco at all. Draco heaved an aggravated sigh at Goyle's poor manners and continued.

"Well, Weasley was the one that found me. She stayed and helped Snape and Madam Pomfrey patch me up. I may have commented on her breasts, I can't really remember. And then I tried to be nice when she brought my things to the hospital wing, and she acted like I was trying to mess with her head. Hot-headed harpy. Honestly, can't a guy be properly appreciative when his life is saved? And now this whole disaster she's causing..."

Goyle looked at his plate as he said thoughtfully, "But why wouldn't you just hex her? Or threaten her to be quiet or something? It's just not like you."

Not wanting to answer that, or even fully consider it, Draco just pushed around the stewed carrots on his plate. Finally he said truthfully, "I don't know, alright?"

Knowing when to leave things alone, Goyle grunted and grabbed another roll off of the platter.

Draco shoved his plate away from him and looked around the hall for the source of his ire. He spotted her annoyingly red hair halfway up the Gryffindor table, with her arm around the insufferable boy wonder, Potter. A growl trickled from his lips as they peeled back into a snarl, his eyes hot with malice.

His reaction was noted by two very interested people.

...meanwhile...

"Huh?"

Harry continued to gaze at Ginny, his bright green eyes unblinking. He repeated his question quietly. "What's going on, Ginny?"

Gently, Ginny draped an arm around him and hugged his shoulders. She loved him dearly, this almost-brother of hers.

It ripped her heart in two as she thought about the events of last year. Things had escalated quickly, until the war was full-blown halfway through the autumn term and the school was temporarily closed.

Ginny had played a part, but it had felt so insignificant at the time. Her duties consisted of ensuring that those who came to 12 Grimmauld Place received the food and care they so desperately needed. She was constantly worried sick and felt helpless, but was forbidden from actively fighting by Dumbledore himself. So she pretended she was Mum, taking care of anyone and anything that came into her kitchen. Madam Pomfrey presided over the more serious injuries, but everything else fell to Ginny. And she did well, too.

Ginny would never, for the rest of her days, forget the morning a large group of ragged witches and wizards Apparated into the kitchen with Harry's limp, bloodied body. She had thought he was dead. And although many had died, no one she knew closely was killed. She still thanked every god she could name each morning for that.

Later, when she had come upon him alone in a dark, unused sitting room, Harry had haltingly told her how he had finally defeated Voldemort. The only way to truly destroy him had been to let him completely take over Harry's body. Harry had willingly let himself be possessed as Dumbledore cast a Protective Charm around his body to bind them together. He cried quietly in her arms as he told her of the pain that had made him beg for death, and of all of the horrible things that Voldemort had shown him, including everything that happened the night he killed Harry's parents. In the end, it had been the memory of his parents' deaths that had turned the tides. Lily's sacrifice inspired him to do the same. It had been Harry's love for everyone still with him, and his willingness to die for them now, that had ultimately destroyed Voldemort.

But, to this day, Harry was only a shadow of his former self. He had seen so many terrible things that parts of him seemed to have shut down. He was distant and introverted, and very rarely interacted with anyone other than Hermione, Ron or Ginny anymore. He did his schoolwork, ate, slept and played wizarding chess, or else just sat and stared at the fire. Even his enthusiasm for Quidditch had evaporated. He played each match like a man in a coma. Yet, it never once occured to the team to replace him as Seeker. Harry was theirs, had saved them all, and now it was their turn to protect him as best they could. Dumbledore assured everyone that he would be alright, that it was simply going to take time. He said Harry's mind had to deal with things slowly, because to face it all at once would result in madness.

Coming back to the present, Ginny removed her arm from around Harry and took hold of his hand. "What do you mean, Harry?"

He blinked as she rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. It seemed that he was more responsive when she kept physical contact with him. Harry turned his hand palm up and clasped hers. "Hermione and Ron were arguing about you. He said that you were 'playing with things far too dangerous' and that you would get hurt. What did he mean?"

Ginny sighed. "You know how Malfoy got hurt in that explosion in the dungeons?"

Harry nodded as she continued. "He said some things to make me angry, and when I brought his things up to the hospital wing, he kept at it. He was just trying to play mind games. So I decided that if he found out what it was like for everyone to pick on him, maybe he would stop acting so mean and nasty all of the time. And then he would leave you and Ron alone."

Harry smiled faintly and squeezed her hand. "Ginny, you don't have to take care of everyone anymore. Believe me, either Ron or I could handle Malfoy in our sleep. He's just not worth the effort."

"But you shouldn't have to, Harry" she replied. "That's the point. This whole" she waved her free hand around expansively "mess started with me trying to get Malfoy to just mind his own business for once."

"And now it's complicated." Harry said as he looked at her with those amazingly green eyes. They used to sparkle in mischief or amusement or anger. Now they seemed so old and tired, like they had seen every injustice of the world. She knew that look well. She had seen it often on Sirius' gaunt face that summer before her fourth year. He released her hand and said gravely, "So now what? Where does it go from here?"

Ginny looked at her empty plate, feeling inexplicably guilty. "I don't know, Harry. I just don't know."

...meanwhile...

Professor Snape and Professor Sinistra sat at the end of the staff table, as was their custom. Snape had launched into another tirade about his fourth year class that had caused the explosion, when Melissande Sinistra cut him off.

"Do you remember what we discussed earlier, Severus?"

"Of course," he snorted. "Completely preposterous, though. Don't know what the boy was thinking, going on like that. He's lucky she didn't shove one of my remaining beakers down his throat. Weasley looked ready to kill him then and there. Can't say I'm surprised she retaliated, though her chosen manner is a little under-handed. Weasley temper and all, I suppose. Though not nearly as bad as that idiot brother of hers-"

"Severus?"

"Yes, Melissande?"

"You seem to be rambling again." She raised a dark eyebrow and cast him a sidelong glance. She did love to tease him so.

Sternly, Snape frowned at her. "No worse an offence than your hare-brained theory. They're as different as night and day. Draco is not all sunshine and rainbows; he has a bit of his father's dark streak. Believe me, I've known him since he was a baby. Don't get me wrong. I like Draco Malfoy, and I think he'll turn into a decent man. But he'll never be the 'save the world' type like Potter."

"And what has that to do with anything?" She asked archly, as she cut into her chicken.

"I just don't think their personalities mesh well. They each have qualities the other likely finds repulsive."

Sinistra laid down her fork and knife, as she stared off into the sea of students. "You don't believe that opposites attract, Severus?"

He gave the tiny, self-satisfied smile of one completely assured of his facts. "In this case, no."

"Then I suggest you see the look on Mr Malfoy's face now. Seems a bit angry about her hugging Mr Potter. Spitting mad, actually."

They both looked at the Slytherin table. More specifically, at the snarl on Draco Malfoy's face as he watched Ginny sit with her arm around Harry.

Snape leant back in his chair and took a long sip from his water goblet. "Perhaps you're right, Melissande. There may be more to this than I thought."

(A short time later...)

Ginny sat talking with Hermione, Ron and Neville after she had finished her meal and kept watch out of the corner of her eye.

She made a mental note as Malfoy got up to leave, his pale hair easy to identify. Nodding absently at whatever Neville had just said, she saw Parvati and Lavender jump up from the end of the Gryffindor table and rush to the doors. Interest piqued, Ginny turned to watch. Following her gaze, the other three let the conversation taper off and looked on interestedly as the situation unfolded.

Parvati jumped in front of Malfoy and grabbed the front of his robes, giving her best come-hither smile. He frowned and said something, causing her smile to falter. Not one to give up easily, she slid her arms around his neck, and motioned Lavender forward frantically. She ran up, long brown braiding swinging, a small camera in one hand. With the other, she grabbed the hem of Malfoy's robes and threw them up and over the blond's head. Grasping the top of his trousers, she tried to jerk them down with a fierce tug.

Malfoy flailed wildly and knocked Parvati away. Silence reigned as everyone at the tables was entranced by the sight of the two girls trying to disrobe Malfoy, who was still hopelessly entangled in his robes. Finally managing to get his robes back over his head, he backed away with his wand in his hand.

"What in the flaming depths of HELL do you two think you're doing?!" he roared. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Their attempt at 50 galleons failing spectacularly, Parvati and Lavender began edging toward the doors. Lavender stammered, "Er, s-sorry. Had to t-t-try, you know. Erm, no hard feelings?"

At the look on Malfoy's face, the girls looked at each other and fled. He started forward after them, then stopped. He turned and shot a look at Ginny that, by rights, should have turned her to a pile of smouldering ashes. Colour flushing up his neck, he whirled and stormed out.

Breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn't tried to kill her, Ginny looked at Hermione and Ron, who seemed immobilised by shock. And then she laughed. She couldn't help it. _This is turning out so much better than I could have ever hoped!_ Her laugh rang out through the silent hall, prompting more laughter, until nearly everyone was choking with mirth. Even Snape looked amused, which was saying something.

Draco stood outside the Great Hall doors, his fists clenched in rage. _How DARE she! How dare they all!_ _You want a war, Weasley? You've got it!_ He moved to the staircase in front of him, silently planning his first act of revenge.

A few minutes later, Ginny exited the Great Hall with Neville, Ron and Hermione. She paused at the staircase when she realised she had forgotten her wand on the table.

"I forgot my wand. I'll be right back."

Ron turned back, concern in his eyes. "D'ya want us to wait, Gin? I don't want Malfoy to try anything, especially when you're wandless."

Ginny dismissed his concern with a wave. "Malfoy already left, Ron. Remember? Lavender? Parvati? Ring any bells?" She smiled at him placatingly. "The hall is right there. I'll be just fine; half of the staff is still in there. Go ahead. I'll catch up with you."

He looked ready to argue some more when Hermione grabbed his arm. "She'll be fine, Ron. Really."

Reluctantly, he turned and the little group made their way up the staircase.

Ginny had grabbed her wand and was on her way out the doors as a hand landed on her shoulder. Spinning around, she pointed her wand at her attacker's face. Sheepishly, she noted it was her Astronomy instructor, Professor Sinistra, not Draco Malfoy intent on revenge.

"Oh, sorry, Professor! I thought you were-"

"I know very well who you thought I was," she chuckled, her black eyes sparkling. "Quite a show tonight, wasn't it? Poor Mr Malfoy. I hope I never anger you as much as he must have. That scene with Miss Brown and Miss Patil seemed to have truly embarrassed him. What, I wonder, could he have done to make you so angry?"

Ginny blushed. "Er, Professor, I'd rather not..."

She casually waved off Ginny's mumbled attempt at an explanation. "Of course, of course. How rude of me to push. But if you ever need someone to talk to confidentially, Miss Weasley, please consider me. I find I quite like you." Professor Sinistra smiled, and waited for Ginny to walk up the staircase before she left.

Ginny hurried to Gryffindor Tower. The empty halls suddenly seemed menacing, and each creak of a stair made her think someone was about to attack her. As she left the final staircase and moved into a long corridor, she spotted a group of third years ahead, laughing and playfully shoving one another.

Sighing gratefully at the sight, she slowed her pace as they turned the final corner and disappeared into the dead-end where the Fat Lady's portrait hung. A tapestry rustled just after she passed, causing Ginny to jump in fright. Grumbling at her nerves, but clutching her wand tightly, she turned and surveyed the tapestry and the hallway behind her. Nothing.

She turned and began walking hurriedly towards the end of the hallway when something cold hit her back and washed over her, giving her gooseflesh and raising the hairs on her neck. She could feel someone watching her.

"_Lumos!_" She whirled and raised her wand. Nothing. The hallway was still empty. She looked over her shoulder and down her front, checking her robes for what had hit her. Nothing. _Must've been Peeves playing his tricks again._

She edged cautiously around the corner and ran to the portrait of the Fat Lady, calling the passcode as she moved.

After the portrait swung shut behind her, she paused and let her head fall against the cool stone wall. She took a few deep, calming breaths before moving into the Common Room, intent on finding Ron and telling him that she didn't want to be left alone again. He was right. It wasn't safe right now. She could feel it.

"Oi! Ron! Get your clairvoyant arse over here!"

All of the Gryffindors in the Common Room looked at her, wondering what she was yelling about. Ginny looked about at all the shocked faces and wondered at the dead silence.

"What? I've something hanging from my nose?" she groused. "Where's my brother?"

Neville, who was about to walk up the stairs to the male dormitories, was standing with one hand raised halfway to the bannister. His face flushed a deep purple, Neville stammered, "G-Ginny! Where are your clothes?!"

Ginny looked down at her robes. The same robes she had on at dinner. Annoyed, she retorted, "I'm wearing them, you idiot. What, are you going blind?"

Seamus, a grin spreading impishly across his face, shot upright in his chair. "Oh no, honey, he's not going blind. Pity the man who is, because he's certainly missing out."

Ginny rubbed the fabric of her sleeve, positive she was going mad. "Seamus, I AM wearing clothes. I can FEEL them, dammit!"

He winked at her, before dropping his gaze to parts well south of her eyes. "Maybe you can feel them, but we can see that charming little birthmark on your hip, which would be difficult if you had any clothes on, love."

She stared at him, eyes widening in horror.

Ron came down the staircase at a run. "What's this about a girl being starkers? Where?" he demanded, eyes roving the room and stopping on his sister. His baby sister. His very naked baby sister.

Yelling incoherently, Ron ran at her whilst ripping his robes off over his head. He skidded to a halt and threw them over her, effectively shielding her from view.

A chilling laugh echoed in her ears. Looking around wildly, she saw that no one in the Common Room was laughing. Malfoy's disembodied voice floated to her, coming from the other side of the portrait. "This is only the beginning, Weasley. You are the one who wanted to play with the big boys, so get ready."

That was the precise moment Ginny came out of her shocked state. She screamed in humiliation and, clutching Ron's robes tightly around her, took off up the stairs to her dormitory.

Draco stood outside of Gryffindor, laughing hysterically. _Only wish I could have seen the results for myself. Splendid, Draco. Top-notch plan; you gave that jumped-up Weasley a night to remember. Ha! Haha! _Congratulating himself on a job well done, he turned the corner and made his way down the hallway, plotting.


	8. Even Mirrors Can Give A Proper Pep Talk

I reloaded this chapter since a few of you said it wasn't showing up properly. Sorry about that. If any of you are still having problems, say so in a review with your email address and I'll send it to you.

**Also**: I've decided to mock my own story. It's quite fun. Check out my profile page for the link. It's called 'She's Plotting Our Downfall'.

Alright, here we go: I adore you all. Your reviews make me smile when I get home from work ready to pull out my hair. I love you. Really.

No D/G, per se, in this chapter, but the next one is HUGE. I mean it. This chapter is pretty tame, but Chapter Ten will earn it's 'R' rating. Big Time. Be aware; make sure the kiddies toddle out of the room before the next one. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Hugs to you all, Katie

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, not mine, J.K. Rowling owns it, yada yada. You know the spiel.

Chapter Eight: Even Mirrors Can Give A Proper Pep Talk 

Ginny didn't come out of her room at all the next day, begging Hermione to tell her professors she was ill. As it was a Friday, Hermione agreed, but only after she had collected all of Ginny's schoolwork to be turned in. She promised to come back to check on Ginny after her final class.

Ginny lay in her bed, clutching a ragged teddy bear, and cried miserably for hours.

At lunch, her dorm mates came in and tried to comfort her, telling her it wasn't as bad as she thought. They told her of how Ron, deadly serious, had threatened to kill anyone who breathed a word of this. Ever. They said Harry even came down from his room to promise that he would help cast Memory Charms on the whole House if anyone even looked at Ginny the wrong way.

She knew it was supposed to make her feel better, but she was so embarrassed. Only Dean and the girls she lived with had ever seen her without her clothes. She just couldn't face them all yet.

And what if Malfoy had told everyone? She shuddered at the thought, though she knew that she would have heard by now if he was spreading it around. She wondered at that. _Why would he take his 'revenge' and not boast about it? What good is that? _She shook her head and buried it beneath her pillows. _He likely didn't want everyone to know he was behind it, to prevent himself from being punished. Ooh, I hate him! _

Her conscience chose that moment to begin to complain loudly. _Well, you are being a gigantic bitch, Ginny. Did you honestly expect him to roll around on the floors, bemoaning the fact he ever crossed you? Hmph. What, you expected to get out of this free and clear, skipping happily through meadows, trilling a song?_

_Shut it, you! I'm the one that ended up doing an impromptu try-out for Playwizard last night. Try showing a little compassion, would you?_

_Compassion. Hmm. No, I think I've quite forgotten the meaning. _

_I thought you were the nice one?!_

_Wrong again, lovey. I'm the one that tells you that you are behaving atrociously, and that your mother would be horrified if she heard of this. You were raised to be better than this, Ginny. You should feel awful. Apologise to the boy and call it quits before you-_

"Lalalalala!" she sing-songed, trying to drown out that nagging voice of reason. Pausing, she lay completely still. Nothing. Blessed silence, inside her head and out.

Ginny promptly fell asleep again, worn out from all the emotions of the last twelve hours. She dreamt of the Sorting from her first year. Only this time, when Professor McGonagall called out her name, she was completely starkers. Everyone pointed at her and laughed until tears rolled down their faces, as the Sorting Hat sang about how naked girls go to Hell, not to one of the four Houses.

When she woke, the light from the window was dim, meaning it was quite a bit later in the afternoon. _I must've slept for hours. But why do I feel so exhausted, then?_ She clambered out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, rubbing her swollen eyes.

Turning on the tap, she splashed cold water on her face, washing away the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks. Grabbing a handtowel, she patted her face dry and looked in the mirror.

The mirror gasped. "Sweet Merlin, child! We're a right mess, aren't we?"

Ginny had to agree. Her mass of thick red hair was matted down on one side and ratted in great knots that tangled down her back. Her cheek bore the distinct imprint of the corner of her pillow, and her dull eyes were blood-shot and swollen from hours of crying.

"Boy trouble, darling? They're all heartless at this age; I know. Did he break up with you?"

It was hard to glare at the mirror when all that showed was her sorry-looking reflection. "No, he didn't break up with me. I would NEVER date such a soulless bastard! He humiliated me in front of the whole House to salvage his stupid pride!"

"A man's ego is a fragile thing, dear," the mirror replied sagely. "If you want to keep him happy, you need to let him feel manly and in charge sometimes."

Ginny snorted derisively. "Malfoy? Manly? That'll be the day. He's a blight on the wizarding world, and should be treated as such. He's a rotter. A great, dirty, flaming sod and he can just tip over and die for all I care!"

A delicate laugh came from the mirror's direction. "For someone that doesn't care, you're spending quite a lot of time talking about him."

"That's because I hate him. Despise him. Loathe him."

The mirror chuckled. "At least you're passionate about him."

Seething, Ginny retorted, "You're off your head!" She paused. "Figuratively speaking, of course."

"I get your meaning, dear. But the point is, are you going to spend the remainder of the day in here moaning about your situation, or are you going to set this, as you say, rotter, straight? Let him know you won't stand to be treated this way!"

Ginny shook her head at the mirror sadly. "I'm not going down there yet. I can't."

The mirror sniffed indignantly. "You can't? Or you won't? You want him to win, is that it? You want him to know he's won, and that you are a complete doormat?"

She stared, speechless. After several moments, Ginny found her voice. "I thought you said men's egos are fragile and to let him be 'manly and in charge'?"

The mirror huffed disgustedly. "That was before I knew the extent of your troubles, darling. I mean, you're afraid to not only face him, but everyone else, too? It sounds like this one, you said his name was Malfoy?, this Malfoy needs a good verbal thrashing. Make him understand how you felt. Powerless, helpless. Like an object. That will get his attention, I assure you. And maybe next time, he'll think twice before doing things that embarrass you."

Ginny mulled this over silently as she fingered the tangle of hair over her eye. _How do I make him feel helpless, like an object? Grindelwald's Gullet! How do I even find him on a Friday night? Oh! Head Boy rounds. He and Hermione each have a two hour shift tonight. _She was still thinking when her stomach announced its presence with a loud rumble.

The mirror laughed. "Let's start with the simple, dear. Hop in the shower and get cleaned up, and then head down for a bite of dinner. Then you can get to work on your Malfoy."

Ginny growled, "He's not my Malfoy."

"Just get in the shower. Hold your head high, tell him what's what, and make him sorry he embarrassed you. Oh, and promise to come back and tell me all about it."

Ginny had just emerged from her shower, fresh-faced and determined, when Hermione's voice called out from her room. "Ginny? Where are you, in the bathroom?"

"I'll be out in a moment, Hermione."

Donning her favourite jumper and a long, loose skirt, Ginny checked her reflection in the mirror. "Well? Better?"

"Oh, back to your beautiful self. Much better. Now, give him hell!"

Gunny turned to leave, but paused thoughtfully. "You know, I've never asked if you had a name. Do you?" she directed at the mirror.

"Oh! Well, I've never been asked that before! How sweet of you," the mirror cooed. "No, I don't suppose I have a proper name; but, since I was originally crafted for the Duke of Wellington, I suppose you can address me as Wellie. It would be an honour for me. He was such a brilliant man, the duke was. Only thing was, he always thought he was mumbling to himself when I spoke to him." The mirror gave a remarkably good rendition of a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose non-magical folk shouldn't receive thoughtful things like myself. Tends to drive them mad." Ginny smiled and assured the mirror that any reasonably intelligent person should be thrilled to own it.

A small smile still touching her lips, Ginny walked back into her room, finally feeling ready to face the world. Hermione stood facing the door, a tray in her hands stacked with wonderful smelling foods. Touched, Ginny made her set down the tray so she could give Hermione a tight hug.

"Thank-you," she whispered.

Hermione blushed, happy to see her thoughtfulness had paid off. Ginny was looking much better, and was even showered and dressed.

"I didn't know if you wanted to go down to dinner, so I nicked a tray and filled it with things you liked. I figured we could eat up here, if you want."

Ginny smiled her thanks and cleared off her bed so they could sit.

They chatted about inane things as they ate, until Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Ginny? About last night. I know I wasn't there, but Ron told me. Do you know who cast that hex on you? Was it Malfoy?"

Ginny nodded. She wiped her fingers clean before leaning back on her hands. "Yes, it was Malfoy. I heard his voice come through the portrait, and his laughter. I could have died right there, Hermione. Honestly. But I just got a good talking-to from the mirror in the bathroom. Incidentally, its name is Wellie. It convinced me that Malfoy needs to appreciate how he made me feel last night. Like an object," she finished triumphantly.

Happy that Ginny had seemingly recovered, Hermione was reluctant to point out the flaws of her theory. "Gin? You do realise this is one vicious cycle, don't you? Malfoy objectified you with the breasts thing, you and Millicent Bulstrode turned him into an object to be ridiculed with the pants thing, and then he hexed your robes to be see-through to everyone but you. If you respond in kind, everything will just keep snowballing. Not to mention, this is completely out of character for you, to be so... so vicious."

"Well, what do you suggest I do? Turn the other cheek?" Ginny countered derisively.

Hermione put on her best follow-the-rules-and-everything-will-turn-out-fine face. Determinedly, she said, "I think you should tell Professor McGonagall. If you tell her everything now, you may get in trouble, but all of this will end. She'll see that the 50 galleon reward gets canned. Malfoy will be put on probation as Head Boy. He wouldn't risk his position to harass you anymore, I'm positive of it. And that would be the end of it."

Ginny thought about it. A nice, clean ending. But then she would lose, because Malfoy had had the last laugh. She shook her head adamantly. "No. I won't let this end with him holding the upper hand. I want him to know I won."

"But Ginny," she pleaded, "this won't end. I know Malfoy. He'll take this far beyond the realm of one-upsmanship. It'll turn ugly. I don't want you to get hurt."

Angrily, Ginny threw her words at Hermione like daggers. "So now you're saying I can't beat him at his own game? As I recall, you were all for my plan to tell everyone his little secret."

Hermione thought about her next words carefully. "I wanted to see Malfoy taken down, yes. I wanted him to leave Ron and Harry alone, yes. But I don't want to see you hurt to make that happen. He's just not worth it."

Ginny blew out a breath, trying to calm down. This was the second person to tell her Malfoy 'just wasn't worth it'. _Three if you count what Hagrid said at Flourish and Blotts just before my first year, when Dad and Lucius Malfoy got into that fistfight. Your family has culled quite the reputation if no one thinks you're worth it, Malfoy. _Ginny heaved a great sigh. She knew it wasn't Hermione she was angry with. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that." Ginny stubbornly thrust her chin out and met Hermione's concerned eyes with her own steely ones. "But I'm going to win this, with or without your help."

Hermione gave a weak smile. "I suppose the odds are more in your favour if I throw my weight in your corner, aren't they?"

Ginny gave a little clap, pleased that she had swayed Hermione to her way of thinking. "So, here's what I need you to do..."


	9. A Cracking Good Time

Well, I promised you some D/G interaction, didn't I?

I know the last few chapters didn't have much action between Draco and Ginny, and several of you are rather annoyed with me because of it. Hopefully, this will make up for it. This is the first chapter so far that definitely deserves the 'R' rating. So be aware. If you don't want to hear about these two trying to outwit one another (and I've never called either one of them especially gifted, if you know what I mean), heavy snogging and very mild violence, hit the back button now. I mean it; no flames about what's going to happen (Spluttering in disbelief is allowed, though. Squeals are encouraged.). ;P

I wanted this to end up a fluffy chapter for all of you hopeless romantics (I'm one too, I confess), but neither Draco nor Ginny would cooperate. They refuse to get together easily. They want to fight first. Hah, headstrong teenagers.

Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my parody of this story, 'She's Plotting Our Downfall'. It's going nicely, and is a ton of fun.

Before anyone gets upset, I only sit down to write chapters for 'She's Plotting' whilst this story is with my beta. (The chapters for 'Downfall' are **looong**, and my beta most likely has better things to do than hunch over her computer correcting my mistakes. Please be tolerant. I'd rather wait for a well-written story than get one that's full of errors.) So the other story won't, in any way, affect how fast I update 'Downfall'. I swear, I'm writing new chapters for this as fast as I can think of them. This is probably pretty close to being the halfway point. I have ideas for the next few chapters, and the final chapter is written. Just so you know where we are.

Thanks so much to everyone that reads and reviews this story. I really look forward to all the reviews; they make me so glad I decided to post this. Big hugs to you.

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I'm not the esteemed Ms. Rowling, therefore it's not mine.

* * *

Chapter Nine: A Cracking Good Time

Ginny paced the length of Hermione's room, glancing at the box on her bedside table. Hermione had told her it was an alarm clock, even though it looked nothing like any alarm Ginny had ever seen. There were little switches and buttons all over it, and all it did was show the current time. Hermione had shown a curious Ginny its energy source, a small cylinder she called a 'battery'. Perplexed, Ginny had said she thought Muggle devices didn't work within Hogwarts' walls, only to be assured that Hermione had to bewitch it. She told Ginny it was a gift from her parents before she left for Hogwarts, and that it was a comforting little reminder of home.

_Dad would find a Muggle alarm riveting. Must remember to send him an owl on it. _She checked the time again. _Five more minutes until Hermione returns._

Ginny fingered the neckline of the fitted tank top Hermione had insisted she borrow. _I sure hope she knows what she's doing!_

After much debate earlier, Ginny had caved in the face of the older girl's logic and agreed to wear the scrap of dark blue fabric Hermione insisted was a shirt. A very fashionable Muggle shirt. A very fashionable and sexy Muggle shirt. Ginny only hoped she didn't have the blasted thing on backwards.

She looked down at the expanse of bared skin above the neckline and promptly pulled the shirt up to cover more of herself.

And then pulled it right back down to cover her suddenly bare belly.

_Aargh! I can't win! _Deciding the middle ground was her best option, she resigned herself to the possibility of falling out. _The only question is which end of the blasted shirt I fall out of! _

She resumed her pacing to calm her frayed nerves and tried to bolster her flagging confidence. _Calm down, Ginny. Talking Hermione into this plan was supposed to be the hard part, so why are you concerned now about showing a little skin? You're wearing clothes. _She looked down. _Okay, I'm actually wearing my last set of robes and a skirt. This wretched thing doesn't count as an article of clothing. C'mon, Gin, pull it together. Your plan will hardly work if you're muffled in clothes that cover you from chin to shins. This was your idea, remember?_

Hermione strode in. A very skittish Ginny jumped at the unexpected intrusion and gave a self-deprecating grin.

"Okay, so how do we look?" Ginny turned slowly round in a circle, spreading her unfastened robes wide.

Hermione let out a low whistle. "Wow, Ginny! You look a lot better in that shirt than I do."

Cheeks pink, Ginny commented, "You'd think Muggles would freeze, prancing round in things like this." She worried her lower lip for a moment. "You really think it looks alright?"

Hermione snorted. "Stop fishing for compliments. You look wicked. He'd have to be dead for this to not work." She tapped her foot, looking ill at ease. "Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? So much could go wrong, Ginny. And Ron would kill me if he knew I was involved in this."

Ginny held up a hand. "Stop. Please, Hermione, no more. Lets just do this. Hopefully, it will be all over by tomorrow morning." She indicated her outfit with a nod of her head. "So I have this minuscule excuse of a shirt on properly, right?"

Hermione tilted her head to the side and studied Ginny contemplatively. "I thought we were approximately the same size, but it's a quite a bit more snug on you in the bust. Wish I filled it out as well as you do. I told you, it's perfect. Come on, if we're going to get you in position before Malfoy and I change shifts, we have to leave now."

Hermione grabbed her Charms text and bustled to the door.

Ginny checked her reflection in the small mirror on the wall as she moved to follow Hermione out. "What's that for?"

"Oh, I promised Ron I'd help him with his work."

"Probably thinks he's going to copy down your answers." Ginny grumbled uncharitably.

They moved out of her room just in time to see Ron turn the corner towards them. Alarmed at the thought of her brother seeing what she was wearing, Ginny looked to Hermione in a panic.

Thinking quickly, Hermione slammed her book into Ginny's chest. Reflexively, Ginny clutched the book to her, adjusting it so her upper body was covered.

"Oi! I thought you and me were doing a bit of revising tonight, Hermione?" Ron called from down the corridor. He put on what he must have thought was a grandly seductive look. Ginny thought he failed spectacularly, swinging towards them in an ungainly lope with an expression on his face that was painful to watch. "You know, alone?" he continued in a voice an octave below his normal range.

Ginny snickered at her love-struck older brother, even as Hermione shot her a warning glance. "We are, Ron." Hermione placated as Ron moved closer. "Ginny just caught me on my way to change out with Malfoy. She, er, wanted my opinion on something."

"Oh?"

"Stop being so nosy, Ron! It's, erm, just girl stuff." Ginny scolded. She was dead out of innocent questions for Hermione.

"Well you needn't be so snippy about it!" he shot back at her with a dark look as he reached them. Leaning down, he gave Hermione a quick kiss as he squeezed her hand. "Missed you, love."

Exasperated, Hermione puffed "Ron, I've been gone for two hours!"

"What, a guy can't miss his bird unless it's been a specific length of time?"

"No. Well, er... Oh, never mind, you!" She leant into his shoulder and patted his cheek lovingly, wearing a rather dopey-looking expression of her own. "I'll be along in a few. See you in the Common Room?"

"Sure. C'mon, Ginny, you brat."

"Ron! Don't call me that, you prat!" she fired back. Ginny softened her tone at the hurt-puppy look on Ron's face and quickly back-tracked. "Eh, I think I'll just walk along with Hermione. I still need to ask her something. I'm sorry I acted that way. I've been feeling very... stressed. Forgive me?"

"Of course, Gin. I understand you being upset about what happened and all." Ron clenched his fists angrily, working himself up again. "I still don't understand how it happened. You said you saw a dark-haired head, but you don't know who did it? I bet Malfoy was behind it. Had one of his disgusting troll henchmen do it for him, the coward. I'll-"

"Ron," Ginny said warningly, a small part of her upset about lying to her brother. "I told you a thousand times already, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't Malfoy. Okay? We'll find out eventually, and THEN you can kill the culprit. Love you?"

Ron patted her back, seemingly mollified for the moment. "Love you, too. You're my only sister. I'd do anything for you, though you do get snotty sometimes. Up for a game of Exploding Snap later, then?"

"Sure, Ron."

(A few minutes later...)

Hermione glanced up and down the corridor carefully before waving Ginny forward. "Okay, all clear. Let's go, quickly now." Hermione surveyed their surroundings one last time. "In you get. Remember, only leave the door open a crack, just enough to hear what is happening. When it's time, I'll say-"

"Hermione! I know. Fred and George taught me how to sneak around properly long before you even knew that Hogwarts existed! Now shoo!"

Hermione tweaked Ginny's neckline down a touch, straightened her robes and winked. "Wretch! You'd think a girl would show her co-conspirator a little courtesy. Good luck!" and dashed back down the corridor.

Ginny fidgeted for the next few interminable minutes before she heard the murmurs of a conversation outside her hiding place. Pressing her ear to the minuscule space between the door and the frame, she could just make out what was being said.

"... and Filch has Ivy Parkinson scrubbing the entry down on the ground floor. If you're not in the mood for histrionics, I'd keep clear. Haven't seen Peeves yet, so keep an eye out. The Fat Friar said Peeves was going up to the Astronomy Tower tonight. Some scheme about glueing students together. I don't know what he's planned, but I've been up there twice tonight already and haven't seen him yet. Prof Snape is on watch, but he's currently engaged in dirtying portions of the floor Parkinson has already cleaned. And-"

"Enough, Granger! Keep the prattle up and I'll sodding well be bleeding from the ears soon! It's very simple. I say a word. You respond with a one word answer, not an entry for 'The Longest Diatribes in History, Spoken By Ugly Horrible Hags'. Emergencies?"

Flushing angrily, Hermione grimaced, but bit her tongue. "No."

"Disasters?"

"No."

"Deaths?"

"No."

"Pity," he drawled lazily. "Anyone else I loathe skulking about?"

"No, you great-"

"Right then. Go away. You're making me queasy. Must have contaminated my clean air with your Mudbloodness. I'm sensitive to filthy impurities like you, don't you know."

"You are impossible! I don't know why Prof Dumbledore made you Head Boy!" she cried shrilly. "You take nothing seriously. You're just as obnoxious and childish as when we were first years! Good night, you sawed-off Hippogriff's arse!"

Ginny counted to twenty. _Now or never, Gin!_ She grabbed her wand, knocked a chair over and moaned loudly. "Oh, Seamus! That feels so nice!" She flattened herself against the wall moments before Malfoy burst through the door.

"Alright, I know you're in here, I bloody well heard you!"

"_Accio Malfoy's wand! Adhaerere pedis!_"

Ginny completed the two spells so quickly, she had Malfoy's wand in her hand before his eyes even located her.

"YOU!" he roared. "I should have smelled a weasel." He made to lunge at her, only to topple forward on his nose. Looking back at his feet, he tried to lift each one from the floor in turn. Tried, but didn't succeed. Not in the slightest.

"Uh uh, Malfoy," she taunted. "I have a few 'pressing' questions for you. Like what you have against my robes that you keep destroying them, for instance." She indicated her closed robes with a wave.

"Aside from the fact that their cheapness offends my eyeballs?" he snarled as he struggled to his feet. "Maybe if you take this damned Sticking Charm off my feet, I'll answer you."

"What, so you can murder me?" she snorted. "I think not."

"Well then, we've a nice little impasse. You won't release my feet until I answer your asinine questions, and I'm not saying another bleeding word until I can move my feet!"

Ginny laughed. She couldn't help it. Malfoy's tone was as whiny as a spoilt child denied a candy, and he looked to be working up to a snit of massive proportions. She laughed, hands clutching her sides, tears of mirth spilling down her cheeks. _He's making this almost too easy._

_The silly bint is actually laughing at me!_ He huffed and crossed his arms, a mutinous look on his pointed face.

"I thought you'd say something like that." Ginny sauntered over to a desk directly in front of him, unfastened her robes and hopped on the desk. Swinging her legs, she leant forward, holding his wand out. "Is this what you want?" she asked tantalisingly.

He looked at the wand she held in front of him, knowing it was just out of reach. Something else was tickling his brain as he stared furiously at his wand. Something about that annoying cow sitting there taunting him. His eyes unfocussed slightly as he thought about it. It was a few seconds before what he should have been seeing registered in his mind. He was staring at a gorgeous, gloriously bare chest. Well, almost bare. _If I could just pull that shirt down an inch or two..._

All at once, his fingers began to itch, his stomach lurched, his throat constricted, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Panicked, having never felt quite this way before, he wondered what was wrong. _Oh no! Not when there's breasts so close by! How could I take ill so suddenly? It's Granger's fault! She really did pass me some sort of deadly virus! I'll hex her into oblivion, the useless know-it-all! And just when I'm so near to..._

Ginny watched the unblinking boy carefully, seeing the exact moment his attention shifted from the wand. He gulped and looked as if he was pinned to a wall. _Ha! Pinned to a wall, stuck to the floor... Ha! Ginny, you're too funny._ Her confidence rose a notch, and the knot of fear in her belly began to loosen. _It's really going to work! I don't believe it! I can do this. I can do this._

Putting her elbows on her knees, Ginny clasped her hands in front of her, knowing the visual effect it would have.

Draco stood there, eyes fairly bugging out of his head. Reeling, his mental rundown of his possible ailments dwindled to a dead halt, as his sole thought process became: _Just half an inch more. Just half an inch more. Just half an inch more. Just half an inch more._

Ginny snapped her fingers at him. "Hey! Malfoy! Hullo? You're not petrified, for pity's sake. Blink, breathe, do something!" She fought down a bubble of laughter as Malfoy struggled out of a seemingly profound stupor.

She slid off the desk and laid both wands down on it. "Hot in here, isn't it? Maybe a classroom that hasn't been used in years was the wrong place for our meeting."

She shimmied out of her robes and tossed them at Malfoy's feet.

"Well? Go ahead, destroy my last set." She ticked them off on her fingers as she spoke. "One, shredded to save your ungrateful self. One suddenly, inexplicably transparent, but I don't suppose you know anything about that, do you? And finally, the last one about to be ruined by an unimaginative, unoriginal git."

A wand rolled off the desk next to her. "Oops! Better get that before it rolls too close to you!"

Ginny knelt down, tilting her head to the side so he had an unobstructed view. She picked up the hem of her long, loose skirt and began polishing the wand, still kneeling.

_So this is hell. Always wondered what it would be like. I thought it'd be hotter, though, like that place with the camels and sand; Calfrika. No, no, that can't be right. Argh, I... _Ginny leaned forward a bit more, causing the front of her shirt to gape open slightly. His fingers flexed unconsciously on his crossed arms, clenching and unclenching rhythmically.

_Gah! Get over here, you horrid, fairly attractive, mostly annoying, completely evil little witch! _He stared at the girl who knelt just two metres away and practically salivated. Her skirt pooled about her, one slim leg peeking out as she fiddled with the wand. Standing afforded him an excellent angle to see the most delectable cleavage in history, to his way of thinking. With each breath, her chest strained against the confining fabric. He prayed fervently that she would sneeze and pop right out, knowing it was highly unlikely.

She looked up at him just then, her mouth forming a little 'o' of surprise. Mesmerised, he watched her eyes darken to the colour of well-aged oak, instantly causing his stomach to tighten with need. She put the wand down and rose gracefully to her feet. Tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear, she glided to his side and placed one small hand on his shoulder.

"What would you do to get your wand back, Malfoy?" she whispered.

He uncrossed his arms as she moved behind him to his other side, trailing her hand across the nape of his neck to settle on his other shoulder.

"Almost anything," he choked.

"Anything?" she purred wickedly, looking pointedly at his lips.

He groaned. _That's it. No more. Can't breathe. Must have now. _Twisting, he hauled her around until she was a hair's-breadth from his chest.

She raised her other hand and began fiddling with his collar, a smug smile playing about her lips. "Don't say what you're not willing to see through, Malf-"

He jerked her against his body and claimed her mouth, wrapping his hands firmly around her small waist.

She was pressed tightly to him, letting Draco Malfoy kiss her hungrily. _Well, maybe I'm participating just the tiniest bit, but it's all in the name of vengeance. Yes, that's it. Vengeance. Mmmm. He may be an obnoxious, irritating beast, but he certainly is an exhilarating kisser. Why must it be someone I despise so thoroughly as a person that I actually enjoy kissing? I hate hormones. I wonder if I can have them removed_. Growling low in her throat, she grabbed his neck and kissed him for all she was worth. _My parents would chain me to a wall in the Burrow if they knew I was doing this_. She shuddered. _Not to mention what my brothers would do_.

He ran his tongue delicately along her lower lip, begging for entry. When he gently caressed her cheek with one thin finger, she acquiesced, parting her lips. Greedily, he plundered her mouth and began lightly running his hands up and down her sides, urging her arms upward to wind around his neck.

She ran her fingers through the baby-fine hair at his nape, letting the sifting hairs tickle her palms.

He moaned into her mouth. "Weasley, what the hell are you doing to me?"

She broke away and stepped back, breathing heavily. He looked at her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, and saw something he had never imagined. Ginny Weasley was, at that moment, breath-takingly, heart-breakingly stunning. _Not beautiful. No, she'll never be beautiful, not with those awful spots they call 'freckles'. Hmph. They're spots. Not even pretty, really. Too short; she's the size of a child. But stunning- yes. I am stunned that I'm kissing a Weasley, a beggarly blood-traitor, a thorn in my side. And liking it. Liking it so much that I want more. Much, much more. _He drew her back to him possessively and dropped his head to nibble along the length of her neck. A little mewling noise escaped her lips as her head fell back to allow him better access.

Whilst he discovered every sensitive spot on her neck with his mouth, his hands moved up to reverently cup her breasts. "If this is a dream, I'm going to sleep directly after supper every night from now on."

She laughed and pinched his side.

"Ow!" He drew one hand back and rubbed the spot where she pinched him, glaring at her.

Ginny giggled. "See? You're awake." She fiddled with the clasp on his robes. "But you're slightly over-dressed for the occasion."

Finally, the clasp gave and his robes fell open. She smiled up at him as she pushed them from his shoulders. Lifting her hand, she sensuously traced the outline of his lips, causing them to tingle pleasurably. Quick as a cat, Ginny raised up on her toes and kissed him passionately until his world contracted to the sensations she was arousing in him.

He felt a tug at his waist as she pushed his jumper up under his arms. Tearing his mouth away, Draco hastily stripped it off before resuming their kiss.

Ginny blindly worked his tie loose as he did wonderful things to her mouth. As he moved to her ear and the side of her neck, she began to unbutton his shirt. When he licked the small patch of skin just behind her earlobe, she shivered so violently that the button she was in the process of freeing was ripped loose. The more attention he lavished on her neck and now, collarbone, the more wild and frenzied she became. Feverishly, she snapped the last button completely off of his shirt and spread her hands across his chest, glorying in the contrast of the coarse, crinkly hair and smooth skin.

Draco began to raise her shirt up and over her belly, eager to be rid of any hindrance to seeing her naked.

With a husky laugh, she backed away once again. "Oh no, not yet. Remember how you said you'd do almost anything?"

He stared blankly at her. "What?"

Ginny just raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"You mean my wand? Keep the blasted thing. Just get back here." he said shortly.

She wagged a finger at him. "Uh uh. First loosen your belt."

Sure that the nine-tenths of his blood supply pooling in his groin had affected his ears' ability to decipher words properly, Draco tapped the side of his head. "I must have misheard you. What was that again?"

Ginny toyed with the shoulder of her top and gave him the naughtiest look she could muster. In a tone that was pure pout, she said, "You don't want to play my little game?"

Staring at the thoroughly tousled red-haired vision in front of him, Draco smiled lasciviously. "Madam, I am but your humble servant." He tore his belt loose, never breaking eye contact with her. "What next?"

"Unfasten your trousers," she demanded. With a sultry smile she added coquettishly, "or do I have to beg?" Only the blush creeping up her chest belied her nervousness.

Not daring to believe what was happening, Draco looked down as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down the zip.

Before he could push his trousers to the floor, she stopped him with a breathy "No, Draco. Wait. Stay just like that. I want to remember this moment forever."

_This is like a fantasy. A very interesting, incredibly unlikely, but oh-so-much-better-than-anything-I-could-have-ever-dreamt fantasy. Oh gods, don't let this end. I'll be good. I'll get Mother to donate more money to St Mungo's. I'll kiss babies and be nice to first-years when no one is looking and complement Pansy's awful new dress robes and... and... er, lots and lots of other good stuff. _He looked up at her from under spiky eyelashes, his excitement almost unbearable.

Draco was flustered and confused, especially when he saw Ginny facing the back of the classroom, an area dark with shadows. Dimly, he heard rapid clicks.

She put down the wand and moved back to him, pressing her soft body flush against his own barely clothed one. "Kiss me, Draco." she pleaded.

His body humming under the guiding force of out-of-control teenaged male hormones, he missed the obvious connections. Shrugging off her momentarily strange behaviour, he dipped his head for another drugging kiss.

She slid her hands behind him, caressing his back and hips, stopping where his trousers hung precariously. Wrapping her arms tightly about his waist, she kissed him fiercely and moved back.

Groans of helpless protest fell plaintively from his lips as he was pushed to the very edge of his endurance._ I promised I would be good! Don't let her stop now, dammit! After all, I am a man, and I can only take so much teasing. I have needs. _He stared at her intensely, determined to mentally persuade her to move back into his arms. _Stop messing around, Weasley. Come back here this instant. I demand it. _He waited for the space of a heartbeat, willing her to jump on him with abandon. _Well, hell. Now what? _

Grabbing her wand, she straightened her shirt and skirt whilst staring at the panting boy in front of her. "Well, that was certainly more than I bargained for," Ginny laughed self-consciously as she circled round him towards the door, giving him a wide berth. "_Accio camera_! Keep the robes, Malfoy. This" -she hefted the camera- "should net me, oh, fifty galleons or so. Should buy me a whole roomful of new robes, I'd say."

Ginny waited for her words to sink in, feeling guilty and terrible. The voices in her head began to clamour loudly.

_Remember, he's not a nice person. Don't feel badly for him. _

_But I'm not very nice for doing this, either. In fact, this is worse than anything he's done. I deliberately misled him, and used his human weaknesses against him. So what does that make me? _

_Well it's too late now, isn't it? Might as well finish it quickly. _

Distractedly, she saw realisation dawn on his face, followed quickly by the blackest look she could imagine.

"Bitch! Why, you... you.." he sputtered. He furiously fastened his trousers, all the while enumerating the ways he would kill her.

_Don't back down now, dammit! See it through. Everything will be over tomorrow. C'mon now!_

She steeled herself, shoving back her suddenly overwhelming guilt. "Goodness, Malfoy, a person can only die once. I'm afraid you only get to choose one method of murder for me. Then again, you'll never see me alone again. So if you do manage to kill me, you'll end up on a permanent visit to see your beloved father." She crept to the doorjamb, looking for all the world like a malicious fairy about to take flight.

"_Finite Incantatem_!"

And then, in a flash, she was gone.

(evil cliffy... part 2 coming next week)

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(Stop cursing, I'm just kidding!)

Not even sparing a glance at his wayward wand, he whirled and bolted after her. Fueled by adrenaline, his long legs ate up the distance between them before she even had a chance to throw a single hex over her shoulder. Diving, he knocked her to the floor and wrestled the wand from her grasp as the camera went spinning away into the shadows. He hurled her wand away from them, picked up the writhing, hissing girl and threw her over his shoulder.

Marching back to the classroom, he violently swung the door shut and looked around. Thwarting yet another kick from her almost knocked him off of his feet. Jumping, he let her stomach drop forcefully into his shoulder, hoping to knock the wind out of her so she'd stop trying to permanently move his kidneys into his back pockets. _No such luck_.

"DAMN YOU, MALFOY! I'LL KILL YOU!" she shrieked.

Spying what must have been the professor's chair, he stalked over to it and flipped her over as he slammed down on the seat.

"Do you hear me, you spawn of a demon? You'll regret this! I'll-"

"You'll what?" he spat as he pushed her, face-down, over his lap. He locked his free leg over both of hers to stop her vicious kicking.

Off-balance and teetering on her belly across one of his thighs, she tried to push herself up, only to discover he had effectively removed any leverage for her to use. She reared as far back as she could and began to pummel any part of him she could reach with her fists. "I'll kill you! No! I'll make you wish you were dead, and THEN I'll turn you over to my brothers!" she yowled, doubling in volume with every word.

Shoving her down, he pinned the small of her back with one forearm, pressing her belly down against his thigh with just enough force to make her realise she had no options left. With his other hand, he gathered the back of her long, loose skirt, flipping it up and over her head.

Being arse up in the cool air, with her blue knickers clear in view, only served to enrage her further. "What are you doing?!" she screeched hysterically. "Go ahead, rape me! They'll snap your wand and you'll spend the rest of your cursed life in Azkaban with your miserable, sadistic bastard of a fath-"

SMACK!

She screamed in pain and surprise, her arse on fire.

SMACK!

"Someone-"

SMACK!

"-needs-"

SMACK!

"-to-"

SMACK!

"-teach-"

SMACK!

"-you-"

SMACK!

"-a-"

SMACK!

"-lesson-"

SMACK!

"-you'll-"

SMACK!

"-damn-"

SMACK!

"-well-"

SMACK!

"-remember!"

SMACK!

"Don't-"

SMACK!

"-start-"

SMACK!

"-a-"

SMACK!

"-fire-"

SMACK!

"-you-"

SMACK!

"-can't-"

SMACK!

"-put-"

SMACK!

"-out,"

SMACK!

"-you-"

SMACK!

"-bloody-"

SMACK!

"-hellion!"

SMACK!

By this time, she was crying in earnest, screaming in anticipation of each smarting slap that landed with stinging force on her arse.

He laid his hand on her, rubbing her burning bottom.

Realising he had stopped, her sobs slowly turned to sniffles, and finally, hiccoughs.

"Damn you, Weasley!" he raged. "You're lucky to come out of this with a child's punishment, when all I really want is to strangle your lying, deceiving throat! And you're damned lucky that my mother taught me that you don't beat women, even nasty spiteful little pieces of baggage like yourself! Get it? You deserve a hell of a lot more than what you got. Merlin! There are some boundaries you don't cross, no matter what. And stone-cold seduction for a damned childish reason like a bet is one of those boundaries. Gods! I can't believe you did that; even I would never go there, Weasley! You just... don't."

Surreptitiously wiping her dripping nose, she felt him remove the arm pinning her.

Pulling her skirt back down to cover her lower body, he sighed heavily. Draco reached down and hooked her under the arms and lifted her to her feet. He sat back and crossed his arms, watching as she fixed her skirt, hiding behind the curtain of her hair.

"Look, I'm sorry that you brought that on yourself, but if you don't have enough sense to-"

SMACK!

Her palm connected with his cheek with a satisfying crack. Caught unaware, Draco toppled sideways off of the chair from the force of her blow.

"I hate you, Draco Malfoy! I wish you never came to this school! I wish I never heard of the Malfoys, and I'll hate you until the day I die!"

Holding his throbbing cheek, he glared at her from where he sat on the floor and retorted, "Funny, it didn't sound like you hated me when I was sucking on your neck. Maybe I should snog girls that 'hate' me more often!"

"You, you- ferret!"

"Ooh, clever." he snarled, a sardonic brow raised as he raked her with heated eyes. "Ready for another go-round? That lovely, -though currently rather red, dare I say?-, bottom of yours has me eager for more of you."

"Aargh!" she howled, before storming away from him with a decided hitch in her step.

"Don't worry, it should stop hurting in a few days or so," he called mockingly from the floor as she snatched up her robes and limped hurriedly towards the door. "Unless, of course, you'd care to have Madam Pomfrey fix you up. I'm sure she'd LOVE to hear how it happened, you vindictive hag!" he yelled after her.

After he was sure she was gone, he began to put his clothes back to rights. Locating his wand, he fixed his shirt with a quick Summoning Spell for the missing buttons and a hasty Repairing Charm. Donning his robes and straightening his tie, he growled as he mentally reviewed all that just transpired. His hand hurt something awful, so he was sure she was going to have a few bruises and a very tender arse to remind her of her much-deserved spanking.

But what his brain kept returning to was not how unscrupulous her tactics were, but how she felt in his arms, kissing him so hungrily. He'd never felt desire like that, so sharp it could pierce steel. _Hell, I've never been kissed like that_._ I don't think you can fake that much emotion that well. She wanted it, too. I know she did._ He touched his lips, recalling the look in her eyes as she softly traced them with a delicate finger.

A scornful smile on his face, he said aloud, "She may not like me, she may think she hates me, but damn if deep down she doesn't want me!"

He searched the corridor carefully, but she had found both her wand and the camera, taking both.

Lost in thought, he jolted as a distant clock chimed the quarter hour mark. _Only fifteen minutes left in my shift? My, time certainly flies when you're being molested by a shameless, deceitful slip of a witch_, he mused as he began to make his way to the dungeons.

(Later, on the ground floor...)

Draco had just reached the staircase down to the dungeons when Prof Snape's disembodied voice floated out to him.

"Mr Malfoy, was all quiet tonight?"

He turned and waited politely until his Head of House had reached him. "Yes, sir, everything is as it should be. Time flew by, to be honest."

"Really?" Snape baited contemptuously. "So how is it a handprint saw fit to claim half of your face, then, I wonder?"

Draco's hand flew to his cheek as his mind raced for an innocent explanation. "I... she..." he stuttered.

"Come now, that pathetic, vacant look says it all. Believe me, I've seen it a time or two during my tenure here." Snape said, his voice dripping with derision. "Miss Weasley's handiwork, I presume?"

"Er..."

"How eloquent, Mr Malfoy. Truly insightful." Snape snorted disdainfully as he eyed the agitated student in front of him. "Confine your pitiful attempts at courtship to when you're not on school duty, if you don't mind." he jeered.

Draco froze, mind overcome by this unwelcome revelation. _Weasley? _Recovering, he turned his thoughts to Snape's directive. "Courtship?" Draco spat disgustedly. "Hardly. That..." his pause pregnant with meaning, "witch is clearly insane."

Snape eyed him for several long moments. With a grim laugh, the Head of Slytherin House turned to leave. "As are you, then, for being so obviously infatuated with her."

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Well? Love it? Hate it? Want to kill me for doing that to our poor protagonists? Whatever you think, hit the purple button and let me hear it. :) 


	10. Legilimens Loathe Chicken Legs

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long since I last updated. Some very bad things have happened in the last month, and to be honest, I just couldn't bring myself to do any writing. My life has been one big mess. I know that's not your problem, just felt I owed you all an explanation. This chapter hasn't been beta'd, so any mistakes are my fault alone. Due to my very crappy mood, this chapter is probably not very funny at all. I'll try to get back on track, though. Thanks to everyone that is still reading this and especially big thanks to everyone that reviews. It makes me feel good to know people are enjoying this.

Disclaimer: Not mine at all. Harry Potterdom is the property of J.K. Rowling.

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Legilimens Loathe Chicken Legs

Ginny stormed through the portrait into the Gryffindor Common Room and stopped to glare at the second year she almost plowed over. "Move," she commanded menacingly.

Unfazed, the girl stared back at her with a curious look. "What's wrong, Ginny?"

Yipping as a growl trickled from Ginny's lips, she pivoted and dashed for the far side of a chair. Colin poked his head over the back of the chair and grinned. "Hey Gin! Are you done with my camera? Isn't it fantastic?" he enthused.

Ginny slowly turned her head and pinned Colin with a dead stare that said clearly,_ Do not talk to me. Do not look at me. Do not consider any sort of interaction with me now, because you will lose precious parts of your anatomy if you do_.

Oblivious, Colin continued merrily. "I love it. I'm so glad my parents gave it to me. Just wait until you see the photos you took; they'll be unbelievable. What did you need it for, anyway?"

Her hand spasmed around the camera she gripped and a tic began to pulse beneath her eye. Slowly, she ground out, "Not now, Colin. I'll talk to you later."

He popped up out of the chair and began to make his way towards her. "What's wrong? Did you already develop them? Didn't you like the photos you took?" he asked worriedly.

"Aargh!" she shrieked as she hurled the camera at his head. "Take your stupid, sodding camera, and leave me ALONE!"

All noise in the room vanished immediately as everyone turned their attention to the drama unfolding in front of them. Reflexively, Colin ducked as the camera sailed straight for his face. It crashed into the wall behind him with a crunch.

"Hey! What the hell, Ginny! Where do you get off-" he yelled.

She took a step closer to him and, in a carefully controlled voice, began, "Not. Now. Colin. I'm going to bed, and I'll figure out a way to fix it tomorrow. It has been a very, very bad night."

She whirled for the stairs, and took one stalking step towards them before crashing into someone. Knocked off-balance, she flailed her arms, desperately trying to regain her equilibrium. Two dark arms reached for her as she went over backwards, landing heavily on her arse.

"Oh man, Gin, I'm sorry. I didn't see you..." Dean stuttered as she fell.

A heavy silence blanketed the room as she sat there a moment, dazed. When she fell, everything slowed down for her, and there was nothing as she landed. No noise, no movement, no pain. Blessed numbness.

Then everything roared back to life, all at once.

Dean reached down a hand to help her up, Colin started yelling at her again, and pain flared to every extremity of her body. She opened her mouth and screamed, a high piteous noise. Once she began, Ginny couldn't stop. She screamed and screamed as sobs tore from her throat and overtook her, gathering a life of their own, fueled by the humiliation and shame of the last few hours.

As her concerned housemates gathered around her, Ginny rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, clasping her knees to her chest. She cried, letting out the confusion, pain, desire, guilt, frustration, longing and everything else that had built up inside of her.

Unnerved, Dean knelt next to her, pushing her hair back from her face and apologising profusely. "I'm so sorry, Ginny! Are you okay? Where are you hurt? I'll go get Madam Pomfrey."

"No!" Ginny yelled. Dean looked at her doubtfully and began to stand up.

"I do not need the nurse! I'm fine," she choked. "I HATE him! I hate him so much!"

Confused, the circle of people around her gave each other questioning looks. Ron and Hermione were pushing themselves through the circle to her side when Ron asked, "Hate who? Who did what?" He grabbed her arm and shook her. "You're hysterical, Ginny. Snap out of it!"

Hermione knocked him away with a rough push to the shoulder. He glared at her. "Who do you think you are? That's my sister, Hermione," he said indignantly.

"Let her be, Ron."

"No! Something's wrong, and I want to know what!" he yelled.

She looked at him, as if deciding what to do. Finally, never taking her eyes from his, she called, "Harry?"

Harry stepped forward and grabbed his friend by the shoulders, pulling him up. "Ginny will be okay, Ron. She needs Hermione and her friends now, not her older brother. C'mon. She'll be alright. Just let them take her upstairs, okay?" he soothed.

Lavender appeared from behind Harry and moved to Ginny's side, across from Hermione. Silently, they looked at one another. Understanding suddenly lit in Lavender's eyes as Seamus mocked, "Why'd you have to bust his camera, Ginny? Not very sporting of you. Either you're losing your mind or it's that time again."

Lavender whipped around and spat, "You shut your gob before I shut it for you, Seamus Finnegan!"

He raised his hands defensively and backed up a step. "Whoa now, Lav. Just trying to lighten the mood, is all. Didn't mean it."

Between the two of them, Hermione and Lavender managed to pull Ginny to her feet. They hustled her up the stairs quickly. Parvati and Natalie MacDonald separated themselves from the group and hurried up the staircase after them.

After getting Ginny into her dormitory, they all settled down to comfort her. After some back- filling of the story from Hermione and a lot of prying, the girls got a detailed explanation of what had transpired between Ginny and Malfoy.

Laying gingerly on one hip, Ginny continued, "I can feel my pulse in my arse. Do you have ANY idea what that is like?"

She poured out the whole sordid story to them as they gasped and made comforting noises when she got to the part when he pinned her in the corridor. The room erupted into madness when Ginny told them about him losing his temper and spanking her. Hermione began to choke, and Natalie had to pound her back for several minutes until she could breathe properly again. Outraged, the girls made dire threats to Draco Malfoy's continued good health until Hermione said quietly, "I told you there were a lot of things that could go wrong with your plan."

Everyone was quiet as they looked at one another. Silently, they came to a consensus. "We'll help you in any way possible, Ginny," Parvati said determinedly. "Whatever you need. And right now, Lavender and I are going downstairs for damage control."

(down in the dungeons...)

Draco slammed his head against the wall behind him as the statue slid back into place, sealing the entrance to his room. He spared a glance in the mirror to confirm what he already knew. A vivid hand print engulfed his cheek, proof to all that a girl had bested him.

He spent the better part of an hour cursing that horrible Ginny Weasley as he thumbed through _'An Introduction to Healing: A Novice's Guide to Basic Spells'_ looking for a way to remove the mark that was fast turning into a bruise. Countless failed attempts and another hour later, he finally stared into the mirror at his unblemished reflection. Throwing his wand carelessly on a table, he flopped onto his bed and glared at the ceiling, mind turning to that embarrassing conversation with his Head of House.

"Vacant? Obviously infatuated?" he snorted. "As if I would ever be infatuated. Ha! What a silly term to apply to a Malfoy. We don't get infatuated. Intrigued, yes. Obsessed? Occasionally, if the subject is deserving enough. But infatuated? How... plebian." He covered his eyes and sighed. "I'm simply determined to not let her get the best of me, is all. Putting her in her place. If I get a few snogs out of it, all the better."

His mind replayed their little scene from earlier, igniting an uncomfortable and slightly embarrassing stirring in his trousers. _It's only to be expected, _he thought_. I'm a man, and if nothing else, she was well versed in the art of snogging. If only she hadn't run off like that... if she'd stayed and we... BLOODY HELL! The camera!_

He shot up, almost knocking his head on a bedpost. "The camera! She took it with her! How did I not realise this before?!"

Draco jumped from his bed and, before he knew it, had his wand in hand as he fastened his robes and made for the passageway out. Realising she would have long since made it back to Gryffindor Tower, he tore the robes off and threw them to the floor in a fit of temper. Whirling, he pointed his wand at the sofa and fired a Blasting Curse.

The sofa exploded in a shower of sparks, fluffy pieces of stuffing floating throughout his room until it resembled nothing so much as a blizzard.

"Bloody, sodding, no good bastardising, flaming pile of- GAH!" he cut off abruptly as he choked on a piece of stuffing he inadvertently sucked in whilst gathering more air to continue his very cleansing rant. Swiping ineffectually at the cloud of fluff assaulting his face, Draco fought the sneeze itching that back of his throat.

"Achoo!"

Valiantly resisting the urge to sneeze again, he glared at his former sofa as it smouldered next to the fireplace. A tiny white puff landed on the tip of his sharp nose and refused to move. His every attempt to dislodge it only made it hover in the air for a moment, before settling right back on his nose.

"I... hate... this place," he grumbled irritably.

Draco stomped over to the mirror to pick it off and stopped. A nimbus of soft white covered his head and shoulders, giving him a distorted halo effect. Stubborn wisps of stuffing clung to his eyelashes, and one had even wedged itself in the corner of his lips.

"I look like a bloody duck!" he screeched.

"_Scourgify!_"

He looked at his fluffy white reflection for a moment.

"_Evanesco!_"

The stuffing disappeared from the room, leaving a very disgruntled Draco standing in front of his mirror. He turned back to the pile of ashes by the fireplace. "_Reparo!_"

Satisfied as the sofa returned to its former pristine shape, he dropped onto his bed with a bounce.

"Now, how to get that camera before she ruins me for good?" he mused.

(the next morning, in the Great Hall...)

Draco ignored Blaise's attempts at innuendo. _He's annoyingly chipper for someone at 07.00 in the morning. Must've had a pot of tea before I arrived._ The never-ending stream of babble was starting to give him a headache as he thought about Weasley and that blasted camera. A sinking feeling overtook him as he chewed thoughtfully on a grilled tomato.

He had lain awake for hours last night, trying to come up with a feasible plan for obtaining the camera before she could completely destroy his carefully-crafted reputation. Every idea Draco came up with either defied the laws of probability or involved him being carted off to Azkaban for murder. _Dammit. Guess I'll just have to see how she plays it. Maybe she won't even show up this morning. Maybe she's seen the error of her ways and decided to... Shit._

Ginny marched through the doors of the Great Hall with a small platoon of Gryffindor girls surrounding her protectively. Each girl glared at anyone misfortunate enough to catch their eye as if they had stood up and declared that they were going to become the next Dark Lord.

Dean Thomas popped up from the bench and began to apologise for something when one of the troops swatted at him and shouted, "Oh, be quiet, Dean! She doesn't want to hear it again, okay? Just sit down and ponder the virtues of silence; a concept men don't seem to grasp very well!"

Draco watched with interest as Ginny sailed past the poor, befuddled boy and stood at an empty section of the Gryffindor table. When the other girls took their places around her, they all sat down in concert. This impressive display of solidarity was marred by a yelp of pain as Ginny dropped onto the bench. Very careful to not guffaw with laughter, as he so desperately wanted to, Draco fought to remain impassive as Ginny turned to glare balefully at him from her seat.

(several minutes later...)

Prof Sinistra paused in the midst of slathering gooseberry jam on her toast and looked suspiciously at the man next to her. "I don't suppose you know what precipitated this, do you, Severus?" she asked wryly.

Pushing his eggs around his plate innocently, he said, "No, of course not," before quickly taking a bite and staring at her with wide eyes.

"You know, that's a terrible look for you. You don't do innocent well at all. In fact, don't ever attempt it again. It's painful to watch. Now, out with it."

A sharp bark of laughter escaped him before he remembered where they were, and who was around them. "Not the slightest idea what you're on about, Melissande. Precipitated what?" he baited.

She narrowed her eyes and continued to glare at him expectantly. "What?" he whined.

"Oh, I don't know. How about Ginny Weasley and her all-female SAS? Or the look she gave Mr Malfoy after she yelled when she took her seat? Doesn't any of that strike you as odd? And weren't you on duty last night? Hmm?" she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"SAS?" Snape asked.

"Don't act dense with me, Severus. You know something and you damned well had better spill it before I get angry."

He shot her a quick glance before taking another bite of eggs. After a moment, he sighed. "All right, no need to get in a huff. It's not like I know all that much anyway. I saw Draco on his way back to his room at the end of his rounds. He had the Look, Melissande." Meeting her questioning gaze, he explained, "You know. The Look. That besotted, infatuated, just-got-a-boulder-dropped-on-my-head look. The Oh-Merlin-I've-developed-hormones-and-they've-overtaken-my-common-sense look."

"Oh, THAT look," she said dryly.

"Stop that. I know you understand what I'm saying. We instruct teenagers on a daily basis; I'd wager anything you've seen it before."

"Would you now?" she drawled thoughtfully.

"Oh no," he cut her off. "No more bets. This school wouldn't be able to survive it."

"Hmph," she said. "I was only joking, Severus. Now, stop getting off-topic."

"As I was saying. He had that horrible look on his face, and was sporting an almost perfect handprint on his cheek. Sort of stands out on someone with his complexion. Really couldn't miss it. And when I asked him to explain, his answer consisted of 'I... she...'. SO, using my advanced powers of deduction, I gathered that the hand had belonged to Ginny Weasley," he finished.

She was quiet for a moment as she crunched on her toast thoughtfully. Taking a sip of juice, she said, "Advanced powers of deduction? I hardly think a master of deductive reasoning would come to that conclusion. Now, being the talented Legilimens you are, you would have noticed him in a vulnerable state, and were certainly near enough to hold his gaze. I don't suppose you exploited those circumstances, did you?"

His mouth dropped open in shock. "Prof Sinistra! Are you insinuating that I invaded my student's mind and drew out the memories of their interaction?" he asked in an offended tone.

She leant back in her chair with a deceptively uninterested expression on her face. "Yes," she replied blandly. "That is precisely what I'm saying."

"Impossible. He would have heard me say the incantation." Snape said defensively.

She snorted delicately. "To quote Hagrid, codswallop. You forget, Severus, that I am very well acquainted with your talents as a Legilimens. Just because you normally use the spell doesn't mean you have to. Now, stop being coy. Tell me everything you know," she commanded.

He looked around them surreptitiously. "Not here. What I saw is somewhat, erm... delicate in nature."

"Fine then. As soon as you're finished, we are adjourning to my chambers to discuss this."

A subtle wash of colour suffused Snape's sallow face. "Your chambers? Right. Just give me a moment to finish my potatoes."

(meanwhile...)

Keeping a careful eye on the Gryffindor table, Draco left the Great Hall, determined to go back to his room and devise a plan to get the camera. He turned to make his way down the stairs when a commotion behind him made him turn back warily, wand in hand.

Padma Patil stood by the doors with Mandy Brocklehurst, Su Li, Morag MacDougal, Lisa Turpin and Luna Lovegood. Since all women made him edgy these days, he backed up a step.

"Can I help you ladies," he sneered, emphasising the word 'ladies'.

Padma studied him as she gave him a calculating smile. "I have a proposition for you, Malfoy. Your... situation has shown everyone how lacking in alliances you are lately. We've," she indicated the other Ravenclaw seventh years, "done some research and discovered a charm that may help you escape your predicament."

"And this is out of the kindness of your hearts?" he replied derisively. "I assume there's a catch."

Padma tossed her hair back with a wicked smile. "Of course. You think we'd intervene on your behalf if there was no gain for us?"

"Well?" Draco asked, affecting a bored look. "What do you want?"

Mandy Brocklehurst stepped up next to Padma and gave a self-deprecating grin. "N.E.W.T.s are coming up, and we don't feel the professors are providing us with enough time to study in the library. There's simply not enough hours in a day. We will show you this charm that will fix your little problem if you allow us to gather in the library after curfew."

"Patil here is a Prefect. Nothing's stopping you."

She shook her head. "You obviously don't understand. While Padma is allowed out past curfew, it's only for nightly rounds. And the rest of us are not even Prefects. Now if we had the Head Boy's permission, it wouldn't be an issue with Filch. You tell him you authorised it, and we'll give you the answer to your problem. Deal?"

Draco contemplated their offer, looking for anything out of sync. It seemed plausible, and it really was the only solution presenting itself. "What's the charm?" he asked cautiously.

"It's like this." Padma drew her wand and gave it two sharp flicks before waving it in an arc. "_Ieiunio Quiesco!_"

Draco suddenly felt very drowsy. His last thought was, _Suppose I should've asked what the charm did before I..._

Su Li moved forward to the prone form lying on the floor, snoring. She clapped her hands sharply next to his ear. When he didn't wake, or even twitch, she turned and grinned. "It worked. Lisa?" she prompted.

The other girl pulled a scrap of parchment from her robes and handed it to Su, who passed it to Mandy. When all the girls had memorised the contents, Lisa reduced it to dust with a quick spell.

Padma nudged the deeply sleeping Draco with the toe of her shoe. "Git," she snorted. "Like I'd help you after treating my sister like that. And costing Ravenclaw our chance at the House Cup two years ago. Hmph. Serves you right. Alright, is everyone ready?"

The girls nodded and moved to circle around Malfoy, their wands pointed at his body.

"_Nullus evidens!_"

Draco Malfoy suddenly lay there in only his robes and shoes. Padma turned to Lisa with a frown. "I thought you said this charm would remove the wearer's clothes?"

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand. That's precisely what the charm does."

Luna cut in dreamily, "Maybe robes aren't the same as clothes. And shoes aren't clothes either. My father said-"

"Dammit!" Lisa spat. "I can't believe I didn't think about that!"

Mandy patted her arm comfortingly. "Doesn't matter. Just conjure the camera and we'll unfasten his robes. Not a big deal."

The doors to the Great Hall swung open with a thud as Ginny, Hermione, Parvati, Lavender and Natalie strode out, talking quietly amongst themselves.

The Ravenclaws stood in front of Malfoy's body, successfully hiding him from view. Unfortunately, that did nothing to stop the snores he was emitting at an alarming volume.

Parvati walked towards her sister suspiciously. "What're you hiding, Padma?"

"Nothing, Ti."

Parvati snorted. "You only call me that when you want something. Now, what's that... Oh my!" She looked over her sister's shoulder and spotted Malfoy's bare white legs, incongruous against the harsh black of his robes. "How'd you do it?"

Ginny and the rest of the group came up behind them. "Do what?" Ginny asked. "Who've you got back there?"

Ginny gaped at Draco Malfoy's sleeping body. He lay with one arm sprawled out and his bare legs flat against the cold floor. He looked ridiculous in nothing but robes and shoes, snoring peacefully in the midst of eleven girls. She started to laugh. "What are you planning on doing?" she asked the Ravenclaws.

"We were going to take a photograph of him like this, then leave him for everyone in the Great Hall to stumble across as they come out after breakfast," Lisa said.

"Brilliant," Ginny crowed. "I applaud you. We'll just be on our way-"

"What is going on here?" Snape exploded from behind them.

They all turned, horrified at Snape's particularly bad timing. There he stood with Prof Sinistra, staring at them with horror equal to their own.

"We, erm, we were just trying to help Malfoy," Padma offered meekly.

"Yes, looks like one of Peeves' pranks," Hermione chimed in.

"Knocked him out completely," Natalie said, her voice quavering.

"Look at those scrawny chicken legs of his," Luna added. "Don't you think they're funny, Professor?"

"Hey, Malfoy, you out here?" Blaise bellowed as he pushed his way through the doors. "I've... erm, what seems to be going on here?" he asked as he looked around at the gathered faces. "Sir, have you seen Malfoy?"

"Yes, Mr Zabini. He's right over there, being attacked by the large group of girls," Snape said levelly.

Finally, Blaise's eyes lit on Draco's prone form. The amusement in his voice readily apparent, he remarked, "Well, if a man has got to die, there are worse ways than naked surrounded by almost a dozen women."

"Thank you, Mr Zabini, that will be quite enough," Prof Sinistra said with a small smile. "Prof Snape, I'll handle this. Why don't we have that meeting in, say, 10 minutes? That will give me enough time to clear things up here."

Looking thoroughly put out at losing an opportunity to yell, deduct points and issue detentions, he nodded curtly. "Very well, 10 minutes." He turned with a flare of his robes and left.

"Zabini! Let's go. This doesn't concern you. You'll have to satisfy your gossip-mongering later," Snape called over his shoulder.

Looking at the girls longingly, Blaise said hopefully, "I don't suppose any of you lovely ladies will fill me in later?" His eyes pleading, he looked first to Padma and Parvati, but they were studiously examining the floor. Hermione glared at him, Ginny simply raised her eyebrows and smirked. Luna cocked her head and looked at him quizzically.

"Did you know Malfoy has chicken legs?" she asked him, completely serious.

He laughed until his sides burned. "Chicken legs? Lovegood, you are priceless. I'll be sure to keep that in mind. So no takers on what's going on out here? No one?" He heaved a dramatic sigh. "You haven't any idea how difficult it is to drag embarrassing information out of Draco Malfoy, have you? Fine. But don't complain when I hound you for details. 'Ta!"

After he left, Prof Sinistra looked at the gathered girls, varying shades of guilt shadowing their features.

"Let me begin by telling you how ashamed of all of you I am. I have never seen behaviour like this from any of you before. I know about this bet going on," she chastised, "and I'm sorry to see you all being so petty. Thirty pointy each from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. If I hear about any of you involved in something like this again, you will not like the consequences. Go on now, all of you."

They scattered quickly. "Miss Weasley! Come back here a moment, please. I have something else to say to you in particular."

Ginny slunk back. "Professor! I didn't-"

"That's quite enough. You may not have cast the charm yourself, but you are most certainly responsible for it, ultimately. You will wake up Mr Malfoy as punishment. Now, if you please."

Ginny pulled her wand and moved to stand next to Malfoy. "_Finite Incantatem!_"

Draco sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He turned to Ginny, blinking and disoriented. "What? What's going on?" he slurred. "Why am I dreaming about you again?" he continued.

Ginny opened her mouth to remind him that he was duped by Padma and the Ravenclaws when he grabbed her hand and yanked her down hard. She hit her knees and tipped forward as he dragged her against his half-reclined body. "If you're going to poison my dreams, Weasley, I at least deserve a kiss out of it," he grumbled.

Before she could open her mouth, he had sealed his lips over hers.

A shocked moment later, Prof Sinistra cleared her throat loudly. "Mr Malfoy!"

He broke the kiss and looked up groggily as Ginny scrambled to her feet and ran away, her footsteps echoing as she pounded up the staircase. "What? Why're you here? I don't like older women," he stated, "so you can't be in my dr..." Draco looked around. "What the hell? Who... Oh no." He sighed as he held his throbbing head with one hand. "I'm very much awake right now, aren't I?" he asked miserably.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy, you are. I have to say, you have an interesting way of thanking Miss Weasley for lifting the curse placed on you."

He looked up at her, shock making his eyes go wide. "She lifted it? Why?"

"You'll have to ask her, Mr Malfoy. Now, may I suggest retiring to your room for a change of clothes?"

Draco turned distracted eyes to his Astronomy professor. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll see you in class on Monday, professor," he muttered as he stumbled away.

A pleased grin creased her face as she strolled towards her chambers.

(Late that night...)

A shadowed figure crept out of the Owlery and retraced their footsteps through the castle, pausing cautiously to listen for anyone patrolling the corridors. Moving past the portrait after whispering the passcode, the person glanced around the darkened common room. A dying fire in the hearth provided the only light as a dark shape detached itself from the far wall and moved forward.

Blaise walked up to Pansy and leant down, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek and a swift hug. "Thanks, pet."


	11. Draco Malfoy! If Your Father Ever Escape...

A/N: Alright, I think I'm back on track now. Again, not a particularly amusing chapter, but vital. A turning point, if you will. Kind of disappointed, not as many reviews last chapter as usual (Sad Katie). I guess I deserved it, though, taking so long to update. Sorry. Well, here it is, hope you like (and review, -coughcough-).  
Oh! You also finally find out precisely why Draco refuses to wear pants (or underwear, for my American readers).  
Hugs to you all.  
morning's broken angel

Disclaimer: Still doesn't belong to me.

* * *

  


Chapter Eleven: Draco Malfoy! If Your Father Ever Escapes Azkaban, He's Going to Kill You!

All in all, the last two days had been blessedly boring. Between Quidditch training sessions and preparing for her upcoming History of Magic exam, Ginny had been too busy to spare Draco Malfoy much thought. Her nights, however, were another matter entirely. When she fell into bed at night exhausted, her brain made timid attempts at figuring out precisely what had changed. Something was off, and the complete lack of anything noteworthy happening only furthered her feelings of unease. She would fall asleep mulling over their encounters, and more often than not, those thoughts would weave themselves into her dreams.

It was disconcerting to say the very least, to wake up from an explicit dream that involved him. It certainly didn't help that she now had a rather intimate knowledge of him. His body, his scent, the way he kissed, even the expressions that crept across his face in the throes of passion. Those were all things she dreamt of.

She tried to convince first Hermione, then Madam Pomfrey, that she desperately needed a Dreamless Sleep Draught. Unfortunately, both concluded that since her dreams were not causing her to actually lose sleep, it wasn't as dire a situation as she was painting. And she didn't wake up in the middle of the night. No, that would have been far too kind. Instead, her traitorous subconscious spent a full eight hours frolicking with a boy she despised, all whilst leaving her body to get the rest it needed.

Each morning she arose refreshed, and damned cranky because of it. As she brushed her hair before going down to breakfast, Ginny thought back to what had happened last night. She had apologised to Colin over and over, even going so far as to kneel at the feet of her friend and grovel. Well, not grovel, precisely. He had told Ginny he would forgive her on the spot if she agreed to help him fix it and do one other tiny little thing. That 'tiny' thing turned out to be kneeling at his feet in the common room and proclaiming that she was "an insufferable git with no appreciation for others' possessions, and that Colin is the most handsome boy in Gryffindor!"

Ginny chuckled as she recalled the scene last night. It was so typical of him to be good-natured about it. She knew plenty of people, herself included, that would make someone's life a living hell if their prized possession was broken in a fit of temper. So, with her pronouncement of Colin's good looks complete, they set about repairing the damage she had inflicted on his camera. Thankfully, they were able to restore it to working order rather quickly, so Colin waved her off to try and recover the photographs as well.

She developed them quickly after Colin showed her how to do it. The photos she had taken of Malfoy were all ruined, runny and dark, and completely useless. All save one. That one had come out perfectly, crystal clear and almost illegal. It was the last one she had taken, where he looked up at her from under his eyelashes, shirt and tie hanging open around him, framing his body. His trousers hung precariously from his hips, and he looked thoroughly edible. If not for his eyes blinking and the fine tremors that ran through his body, one would mistake it for a Muggle photo. He was that still. It oozed sensuality and invited one to hook a finger in the waistband of his trousers and send them slithering to the floor. She had hidden the photograph under her mattress and gone to sleep, unsure of exactly what she planned to do with it. Which brought things round full circle to her dilemma of what to do regarding Malfoy.

She ambled downstairs to wait for the rest of the Quidditch team, so they could all go to breakfast together. Ron had announced that they should eat together at least once a day to devise strategies for their first match, which was in one short week. She flopped into a chair and thought about what she was going to do. Malfoy hadn't so much as looked in her direction since waking up and snogging her in the corridor in front of Prof Sinistra. The lack of any attempts at revenge made her more suspicious than anything else would have. It drew her nerves out, winding Ginny up to the point where she jumped at the slightest noises, sure it was Malfoy bent on vengeance. Or snogging. She wasn't sure which was more likely. The latter was definitely more appealing, at this point. It was all very confusing.

Finally, the team made their way to breakfast, huddled together in a tight little group at the table, alternately stuffing pieces of food in their mouths and scratching out formations on the parchment scattered on the table in front of them. The Chasers bickered over the most effective tactics against Slytherin's defence as Ron repeatedly shushed them with very dramatic looks over his shoulder, saying, "Keep it down! You never know where they have ears." Harry simply rolled his eyes at Ginny whenever Ron did this, causing her to erupt in giggles that turned her brother's ears an indignant shade of red.

"Well, they could be listening!" Ron said defensively at least a half dozen times.

Breakfast progressed in the same manner until a commotion overhead signalled the arrival of the morning's owl post. Ginny dropped the slice of toast she was buttering as Fred and George's owl swooped down at her with a small package. She caught it just before it smashed into the pitcher of orange juice in front of Seamus and shook her fist at the owl as it circled above her.

"Bloody menace! Only Fred and George could find an owl that likes to cause as much trouble as they do! I swear, you do it on purpose!"

The owl hooted reproachfully at her and swept away. She looked for Igraine, her parents' new owl. She was perched on Harry's shoulder, calmly crunching a piece of bacon in her beak. Obviously no letter for her from home today. Both Harry and Ron were intently reading letters from her parents, and so missed her look of bewilderment as she unwrapped the small parcel in front of her. Ginny snickered as she read the note inside the box.

_Dearest little sister,_

_We put quite the effort into your request. You should be thankful your darling _

_brothers adore you so much._

_Actually, you can't destroy any Hogwarts statuary. We tried in our third year, _

_when we ran across a particularly loathsome statue of Bathilda Bagshott. It _

_quoted 'A History of Magic' whenever someone came within a metre of it. Nasty _

_thing was positioned right next to the front doors. We're pretty sure Filch was _

_behind it. _

_Anyway, we blew it up. Three hours later, we were in Filch's office being promised _

_caning and bamboo shoots under the fingernails when Prof MacGonagall saved _

_us. Well, not really. She gave us detention for a month. We were forced to clean _

_the Owlery without magic. Brutal old woman, that one. _

_But that's beside the point. She told us that the statues are enchanted to _

_recreate themselves so any 'miscreant' (that's a direct quote from old _

_MacGonagall) that destroys them is duly punished. Never thought about it _

_again, since she had the statue moved and we couldn't find it to experiment on. _

_We've devised a very clever potion that only works on stone. It's a variant of a _

_Silencing Charm. _

_Pour the potion over the statue, and it will be silent forever more. The potion is _

_impervious to all magic meant to counteract its effects. The only way to lift it is _

_to pour Muggle liquid soap over it. Don't ask. You really don't want to know the _

_answer, Gin._

_Well, best of luck with your statue. Be sure to let us know how it goes, as we're _

_considering the potion as an addition to our inventory._

_Merry mischief-making._

_Fred and George_

Ginny laughed happily as she set the note aside and pulled a small vial from the parcel. It contained an innocent-looking pink potion. She carefully set the vial and note in her pocket for further examination later. She was prevented from asking Ron what the letter from their parents was about by a commotion across the Great Hall.

(meanwhile...)

Draco put down his fork as owls filled the Great Hall. His mind had been drifting, trying to reason out his frequent, and completely absurd, dreams of Ginny Weasley. The one from last night had topped all of the others, though. It was... graphic, in the later parts. _Surely there's a logical explanation for dreaming of having Weasley secured naked to my bed whilst I licked treacle off her belly. Think, Draco, think. _He smoothed his robes thoughtfully. _It must be one of those representative dreams! Yes, that's it. Being naked in a dream is to be vulnerable. Yes, exactly. And her being tied up reinforces that. Her belly is... the root of my problems. Precisely! And the treacle... er... the treacle is how sweet my victory will be. Ah ha! That's got to be it, I know it. Now, I've simply got to convince myself to believe that. Stupid women with their stupid bodies. No wonder men do insane things like buy flowers and write poetry. It's so they continue to get a good shag when they need it._

He shook his head and smiled, his first real smile in quite some time. Draco looked up expectantly for his weekly delivery of sweets from his mum. Instead, the family owl gripped a Howler in her razor-sharp talons. She simply dropped it on his head and swept away, not even stopping for a bite of food. Wondering what on earth would have driven his mother to send him a Howler, he grabbed it up from where it had fallen on the bench and scrambled up. _Not going to let these twits have the pleasure of hearing whatever it is she wants to yell about. Probably broke a fingernail writing out a cheque for a new set of robes, or some such drivel. _Striding quickly for the doors, he failed to notice a smugly expectant Blaise Zabini shadowing him.

Not ten steps from the doors, Draco was knocked to the floor as someone slammed into his back. He hit the stones hard, temporarily knocking the breath from him as a heavy weight clumsily removed itself from his legs.

"What the..." he gasped. "Geroff!" He scuttled forward, trying to grab the Howler and get out before it exploded.

Blaise had other ideas. He grasped Draco by the wrists and pulled him up. "Sorry, mate. Wasn't paying attention to where I was going. You alright?" he asked as he manoeuvred himself between Draco and the Howler. He was forced to release one of Draco's arms as he struggled to get around him. Blaise just asked louder, "You alright?"

Draco had no sooner freed his arms and made a move for the letter before it exploded in a shower of angry red sparks.

"**DRACO TIBERIUS MALFOY!**" his mother's voice screeched in outrage. "**I OUGHT TO FLOO DIRECTLY THERE AND SHOUT AT YOU IN PERSON, YOU THOUGHTLESS WRETCH! PRIMROSE PARKINSON OWLED ME THE MOST DISTRESSING NEWS I'VE HAD SINCE YOUR FATHER'S BEEN GONE! SPEAKING OF YOUR FATHER, HE WOULD HAVE A HEART ATTACK IF HE HEARD OF WHAT YOU'VE BEEN GETTING UP TO! HE'D BE BEGGING FOR THE KISS, SIMPLY FOR THE SHAME OF IT! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM?! I WOULDN'T HAVE THOUGHT YOU CAPABLE OF SUCH, SUCH... SPITEFULNESS! YOU LEAVE THAT POOR WEASLEY GIRL ALONE, DRACO, DO YOU HEAR ME? HEXING HER, PHYSICAL VIOLENCE! UNBELIEVABLE! KISS AND MAKE UP, OR I'LL SEND YOU DIRECTLY TO ARTHUR WEASLEY FOR PUNISHMENT, MARK MY WORDS! HONESTLY!**"

The silence that followed was deafening. Draco flushed a dull red in mortification, his feet frozen in shock. He narrowed his eyes, filled with malicious promise, at Blaise. Blaise looked back at him in horror.

"Your parents named you Tiberius?" he whispered. "That's awful!"

Draco was reaching for his wand when Millicent shouted out, "Your mum's got one hell of an imagination, Malfoy! Knew she was a little barmy for years, but she's finally gone round the bend, I guess."

The Great Hall was filled with subdued laughter and whispering. Draco was ready to forgive Millicent anything for making it seem a great joke, diffusing the situation. He could have kissed her ugly face at that moment, fed her bonbons and quoted Byron, proposed marriage, jumped off a tall cliff, anything she asked for. Someone at the near end of the Ravenclaw table muttered, just loud enough to carry to Draco's ears, "The joke is that Malfoy's mum thinks his father would be upset about him attacking Ginny Weasley. Please. I think he'd go mad at the prospect of them kissing and making up!"

Draco looked wildly around, his eyes finally settling on the Headmaster. He was peering over his eyeglasses at Draco thoughtfully as Prof Sinistra whispered something in his ear. Draco nervously twisted his robe between his fingers, finally realising that the best course of action was a swift exit. He was almost out the door when Dumbledore's low voice reached him.

"Mr Malfoy, Miss Weasley, may I have a word with the two of you outside?" he asked. Draco turned and nodded dejectedly, as Dumbledore's tone of voice clearly brooked no argument.

"I know you had something to do with this, Zabini," Draco hissed, glaring at the taller boy. "Don't even bother protesting. I know you're behind this. It reeks of your awful cologne. How about you, Pansy and I have a little chat this evening in the common room? I want answers from the both of you. Don't make me make you bleed to get them," he threatened before stalking out the door.

Ginny followed Malfoy out as Dumbledore rose from his seat at the head table. She was embarrassed but amused, which was an odd combination she had never encountered before. _Malfoy's mother is either incredibly stupid, or inconceivably self-deluded. Lucius Malfoy is rotten to the core. Hell, he tried to kill me once himself with the diary. Not to mention the Department of Mysteries, or the number of times he tried to kill my family and friends during the war. The only way he'd be enraged would be if he knew that his precious son had snogged Arthur Weasley's blood-traitor daughter. More than once, at that. And that he LIKED it. Ha! Maybe I should send him an owl detailing precisely what happened. And include that photo. With any luck, he'd die of a broken black heart. _Ginny was shaken from her reverie by Prof Dumbledore's soft clearing of his throat. She hadn't noticed him joining them, or the furious looks Malfoy was directing at her when he wasn't glaring holes through the floor.

"I couldn't help but notice something amiss in my school lately," he began quietly. "Especially when challenges are issued at meals and some of my students end up with mysterious maladies."

Draco turned his glare on the Headmaster, unable to master the emotions that rampaged across his face.

"Now, I firmly believe in letting young people discover things for themselves, as they rarely believe an old man when he tells them," Dumbledore said wryly. "But neither of you seems to have come to an acceptable conclusion on your own, and this has gone on for quite long enough. It's disrupting everyone's lives here, not just your own. Even the staff have their concerns," he admonished gently. "Here's what is going to happen, since you require my intervention. I'm going to cast a charm that will enclose the both of you in a sound-proof bubble. You are to resolve your issues, here and now, to your satisfaction. I am not removing the charm until you both feel you have reached a solution. Also, it will be completely transparent, so I may intercede if either of you feels the need to resort to violence, either physical or magical. I warn you against that, as I will be forced to expel the student in question. I try to stay out of students' affairs," he said, almost apologetically, "but the two of you have left me no recourse. Are you ready?" Dumbledore finished, looking from one to the other. At their jerky nods of agreement, he motioned them down a side hall to an unused classroom. Once they were all inside, he cast the charm around them.

Both Ginny and Draco ignored each other and watched the Headmaster. He conjured an overstuffed chair with a basket on it. He set the basket down, pulling knitting needles and a tangle of yarn from it. Ginny smiled fondly at him as he raised his creation for her inspection. It most closely resembled a scarf, except for the right angle it took about halfway up its multi-coloured length. She nodded in approval before turning to Draco, her smile vanishing.

"So," she began awkwardly.

Draco snarled at her, raising her own anger.

"How is it, knowing Mummy's a nutter?" Ginny began acidly.

With a vicious glare, he spat back, "How's your arse? Can you sit yet? I imagine my handprints still cover it from top to bottom."

Ginny advanced a step with her fists balled up before she remembered that she'd be expelled if she layed a hand on him. She settled for crossing her arms tightly over her chest, more a preventative measure to keep her from hitting him than anything else.

"Look, we're obviously not leaving until we sort this out," she tried in a conciliatory tone.

"Fine," he huffed, obviously battling to suppress his anger. "Here are my terms. Give me the camera, call off that idiotic 50 galleon challenge, and never speak to me again. Oh, and a public apology."

Ginny chortled, genuinely amused. "You're as deluded as Mummy. I'm not-"

"Don't talk about my mother," he yelled.

"Fine. Maybe that was a cheap shot," she acknowledged. "I'm not giving you the camera. It's not mine," she cut him off with a raised hand as he opened his mouth. "It belongs to Colin Creevey. Anyway, I threw the camera at him and ruined the film. The photographs are useless blurs of colour. I'll show them to you, to prove it."

"Agreed. And I get to destroy them, just in case," he said suspiciously.

"If you'd like," she said equably. "And I can't give you a public apology if I'm to never speak to you again, you know." She gave him a measured look as he flushed a light pink and sputtered. Ginny heaved a sigh. "Listen, Malfoy, we have to end this. Someone's going to end up dead, at the rate we're going. I'm willing to call off the challenge at lunch, but only if you are reasonable about this. If we can talk about this civilly, then I'll call it off. If we're going to stand here and throw insults at each other until Dumbledore gets tired of this and expels us both, then it's on your head, not mine."

He pursed his lips and stared at her, thinking. "Fine. On one condition. You answer my questions truthfully, and I'll grant you the same courtesy. And nothing said in here is to ever be passed to anyone, for any reason. Ever. Deal?"

Ginny nodded and gave him a grim smile. "Deal."

"Did-"

"Are-" They began at the same time.

Draco waved a hand at her with a mocking nod. "Ladies first."

"I was going to ask why you started this in the first place," she said.

"Me?" Draco asked incredulously. "Me? I seem to recall it being YOU gossiping about my choice of garments to anyone with ears, whilst I was in the hospital wing recovering from a near-death experience!"

"Near-death, my arse!" Ginny snorted. "And I never would have done that if you weren't plotting something undoubtedly nefarious and being... odd when I tried to help you and get your things."

"Oh, spare me the self-righteous act!" he retorted. "I admit you were being nice when you helped in the Potions classroom, but snooping through my room on orders from Snape, looking at the book I was reading, rifling through my clothes and then playing at Little Miss Do Right? Please," he said derisively. "When you came in with my things acting all shy and submissive, I knew it was an act. I was simply curious as to what type of girl claims to help an enemy and then exposes intimate facts about him. Treachery doesn't fit well with the heroic facade."

"Well, what kind of boy rhapsodises about the breasts of a girl he professes to hate?" Ginny parried.

"Circe's Swine!" he yelled. "I told you, I wasn't exactly in my normal frame of mind, Weasley! Half my blood was on the damned floor! Stop being purposely thick!"

"Fine!" she yelled back. "And whilst we're on the subject, why don't you wear pants, Malfoy? Why don't you tell me that!"

"You really want to know? Fine!" he yelled, not noticing they were practically toe to toe, shouting into each others' faces. He grabbed her elbows. "Here's my deep, dark secret! I let Crabbe practise Shrinking Charms on me first year! Not a big deal, since he couldn't do one anyway! I fell asleep waiting for him to get it right, and woke up screaming when my pants were a fraction of the size of a Brazilian thong! Zabini eventually counteracted it, but it took two weeks to physically recover. Threw every pair of pants I owned in the fire as soon as I could walk properly. Happy now, you nasty hag?"

Ginny's mouth fell open. "Well. I never would have guessed that was the reason you didn't own any," she managed to choke out.

"Don't you DARE laugh," Draco threatened darkly. "Since we're being truthful," he sneered, "tell me how you were feeling when you seduced me."

The laughter in Ginny's eyes drained away, leaving her face strained and white. "It was a means to an end," she said stiffly.

Draco knew he had her cornered now by her own agreement. "Tsk tsk, Ginny. Truth only," he chided. "How did teasing me make you feel? Undressing me, rubbing your body against mine, snogging me senseless. How did all of that make you feel?" he asked in a soft, caressing tone. "What did it do to you?" he whispered.

Ginny blinked slowly, unconsciously gripping his arms. "I... I..." she began haltingly, wetting her suddenly dry lips with her tongue. "I liked it," she whispered, looking down at his shoes. "I liked kissing you. I liked the way you felt. I liked the way it made me feel. I felt strong and desirable, and in control. And then I felt bad," Ginny ground out brokenly, a hint of tears in her words.

Draco's stomach lurched at that, at the tears thick in her voice and the admission she had just made.

"I felt bad for what I was doing," she continued. "I knew it was wrong, but I had justified it to myself. And I couldn't back out then, so I just got it over with as quickly as possible. And then you caught me, and I didn't think about it anymore because I wanted to kill you. You hurt me," she accused, looking up at him, tears threatening to spill over her lashes.

"I was too angry to do magic. I might have injured you, or even killed you. So it was either slap you around and do some serious damage or spank you like a child," he said slowly. "At that point, it was one or the other, Ginny. Deciding on the spanking took the last shred of my self-control. I don't really remember hitting you very hard, either," he added.

She pinkened. "Well, it hurt. Trust me on that."

"It was supposed to hurt," he said authoritatively. "If it didn't hurt, there would be nothing to remind you to never do anything like that again."

"Well, well, who are you? An authority on how to discipline children?" she snapped. "If that's your mindset, the Ministry should legally bar you from ever having children!"

"You would have preferred having the life beaten out of you?" he asked incredulously. "And my children will be a welcome addition to the world, let me assure you."

"I didn't say that I would have preferred a beating. Don't put words in my mouth," she said mulishly.

Exasperated, Draco threw his hands in the air. "You can't have it both ways, Princess. Your choices were a spanking or a beating. And they weren't your choices, really, they were mine. And my mother," he snarled, "despite her capacity for insanity, as you so kindly pointed out, prefers that I don't beat women. I indulge her, since I happen to agree when I'm not driven to the brink of madness by idiot redheads!"

Ginny put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. "That's right, blame your lack of self-control on me. That solves everything! Poor Draco can't take responsibility for his own actions, never that!"

"You are a melodramatic, spiteful little witch who can't control her temper. And THAT is the truth."

"Well you're an over-bearing, self-centred, nasty, heartless, attention-starved bastard! I never would have done a damned thing in the first place if you left Harry and Ron alone!"

"Ah," Draco drawled softly, his face suddenly as expressionless as a mask. "Now, we're getting to it. Leave precious Potter alone. Don't want to offend our conquering hero, do we? Everyone loves the self-sacrificing Saint Potter. Still hopelessly pining after him, Princess? Waiting for your story-book ending?" His words came faster and faster, laced with the hatred and venom that his face didn't show. "Guess what? It's not going to happen. Potter will never love you!"

Ginny laughed. She threw her head back and laughed, confusing him. "Is that what you think?" she gasped around a laugh. "You think I'm in love with Harry?"

"Well, it's rather obvious," he sniffed defensively.

"Oh yes, so obvious it escaped me," Ginny retorted dryly. "And stop calling me Princess, it's bloody aggravating. I do love Harry. I have for several years now. As a brother, you great berk. Not romantically. I want him to be happy again, not propose marriage to me. Do I look like a complete idiot?" She raised her hand. "Don't answer that. I am sick of the way you torment Ron, Harry, Hermione and everyone else that you think is below you. It's appalling, the lack of respect you have for anyone who doesn't hold with your ideals of pureblooded superiority."

"I respect Potter," he defended. "I simply despise him. It's a very basic difference."

"Really?" Ginny drawled, her voice dripping with disbelief. "And why do you despise him, hmm? Since now we're getting down to it, as you say. Why do you hate him so much that you continue to torment him even when he's defenceless and all but broken? Because he refused your friendship seven years ago? Are you that shallow?"

"No!" he yelled. "I hate him because he has always gotten out of hand what I never got, through fair means or foul. Respect, awe, talent, adulation, fame, everything! And the bastard paid it no mind! He never cared that most of the Wizarding World spoke his name with reverence! Even my father respected him. He couldn't be brought low! Even the Dark Lord lost to him, time and again. So how the hell was I supposed to compete with someone like that!" he shouted angrily, his eyes shining with a film of furious tears.

"You're saying you hate Harry because you want to be like him?" Ginny asked quietly, searching his watery eyes. "Draco?" she prompted gently.

"Yes," he replied in a tortured whisper.

"I see. You do realise that no one is perfect, don't you? There's a reason witches and wizards are mortal, you know. We all have flaws, and we're not gods," she said wisely. "Harry, for example. He can be the most self-centred person on the planet. He does, and always has, thought first of how things will affect him. He loves the people closest to him, but doesn't always realise how his reactions can hurt their feelings. He hates the spotlight, but he's drawn to it in spite of himself. Do you see what I'm saying?" Ginny asked, feeling sorry for the wealth of pain in him. This was a side of Draco Malfoy she had never dreamt existed.

"Potter is self-centred, isn't he?" Draco asked hopefully.

Ginny shook her head firmly, but softened it with a small smile. "Don't go maligning Harry. What I'm trying to tell you is that you two are similar, like flip sides of the same coin. He has fame, doesn't want it, but needs it all the same, whether he's aware of it or not. You desperately want attention, do anything to get it, and mourn the fact that it's not the type of attention you wanted. You both have this horrible void that sucks in recognition, but no matter how much you have, it's not enough. Don't ever wish for someone else's life. It's never what you expect and rarely what you really want."

Draco stared at her, trying to process what she had said. "Don't go thinking I'm going to swarm to Potter like a moth to flame now. I still hate him. And I think Muggles should stay the hell out of our world," he said defiantly.

"And I still think you're a small-minded bigot, indoctrinated from the cot to hate anything different from you," Ginny retorted.

Draco took a step back, suddenly dropping her arms. "Look. I don't want to be Potter. Don't mistake me for some drooling fan of his, and don't you dare feel sorry for me. All I'm saying is that I want to be someone whose name is remembered. Someone people step back from and wonder what it must be like to be."

Ginny gripped her own arms, hugging herself to ward off the cold feeling enveloping her. She turned her face away from him as she asked sadly, "And you truly believe people will revere a man that hates everything that's different from him? The only people that admire that are idiots and zealots."

"I don't hate everything that's different from me!" Draco cried fiercely. "If I hated your precious Muggles, I would've helped my father during the war. Instead, I sat at a cousin's home in France comforting my mother, who cried for days on end. If I hated them, I'd never be able to work with your Mudblood mate Granger on a daily basis. Muggles have their world, we have ours, and that's how it should stay. Mudbloods destroy the line between the two, and families like yours smile merrily, as if it's okay. Well let me ask you something. If your family didn't believe in retaining the pureness of their lines, how did your parents come to be? Because the Weasleys and the Prewetts valued the same thing I do. You think that a millennium worth of marriages were all love matches? Are you that naive? Check out your own family history before you malign the beliefs of mine. I'd wager there were several rather unhappy alliances created simply to continue their pure lines. So if I'm hateful and evil for thinking what I do, then point the finger at your own family, too!" he finished grandly.

Ginny stood silent a moment. Slowly, she began. "I don't judge my ancestors for their choices, but I never asked to be a Pureblood. If every magical family held to your vaunted ideals, there'd be none of us left. None. We would have bred ourselves out long ago. I learned in the war that you do what you have to, simply to survive. And sometimes that means embracing what's foreign to you. You have a lot to learn about life if you don't know that." She gazed up at him, unblinking. "So in effect, what you're saying is that if you fell in love with a Muggle or a veela or someone else that wasn't 'pure', you wouldn't marry them?"

He snorted. "I don't believe in love."

"Oh no you don't," Ginny countered. "You love your mother."

"Fine," Draco sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I don't believe in romantic love. There's lust, and mutual interests and friendship. You romantic types mistake it for love."

"Alright," Ginny said evenly. "If you lusted after a Muggle," she cut him off when he tried to interrupt, "or a veela or someone who wasn't a Pureblood, were friends with them and had common interests, you'd leave them simply because they were different from you?"

"I'd never get involved with them in the first place," he retorted. "I have friends that are halfbloods, you know. I'm saying that when I marry, she'll be a Pureblood that I like. I'm not going to be the Malfoy that breaks with tradition. Take you, for example." Draco motioned at her with a hand. "You're a Pureblood that's fairly attractive when you're not bent on crusading. We're interested in some of the same things, like Quidditch, and you can obviously handle moderately intelligent conversation. But you're different from me. You want to have one big, mixed up world where Muggles, trolls, giants, wizards and everyone else live together happily. Check your history books. It doesn't work. People have tried before, and it almost always ends with a sizeable death count. But you I could probably handle in a relationship."

Ginny goggled at him. "What exactly are you saying?"

He fixed his gaze on some point over her head. "I'm saying that you're different, and I could handle that. So I'm not this intolerant monster you're painting. I just have different ideals, and if you can't deal with that, then you are just as intolerant as you claim I am, and a hypocrite to boot."

"A hypocrite," Ginny trilled. "I..." she trailed off. "Fine, you've made your point. What I want to know is, how exactly did a conversation about calling off this little war turn into a hypothetical discussion of our beliefs?" she asked, perplexed.

"Dunno," Draco responded, a small smile on his lips. "So. Have we reached an agreement? You call off the challenge at lunch now, and I'll make an attempt to be less, erm, abrasive."

"Really?" Ginny asked, surprised. "Why would you do that?"

Draco turned to Dumbledore and caught his eye. Nodding pleasantly, he indicated Ginny with a wave, signalling they had reached an accord.

Dumbledore removed the charm with a wave of his wand, before sending his chair and knitting back to their original location. He smiled tentatively. "Have we settled this, then?" he asked.

Draco and Ginny both nodded.

"Very good," Dumbledore said warmly. "I knew you two had it in you. Logic prevails, after all." He waved them forward out of the room as he closed the door behind him. "Now, I'm sure you are both a tiny bit late for your first classes. Off to your rooms, collect your things, and let your professors know that you were with me. Ah, this will be a good day," he sighed happily as he ambled off. "Good things are in the air."

Draco waited until Ginny was halfway up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower before he called out, "Weasley! You asked why I would do that? Because I need something to keep me occupied until N.E.W.T.s."

Ginny laughed quietly to herself as she began climbing the stairs again. Perhaps things would turn out alright after all.


	12. Public Proclamations and Private Prevari...

A/N: (Dodges Bludger being aimed in my direction) I know. Very bad me for taking so long. I have no excuse, simply haven't had much of any spare time to sit down and write. Will try to make amends by making this chapter long, with lots of fun D/G scenes. I am very much feeling Droll!Draco and Exasperated!Ginny right now. This, of course, will lead to fun conversations. And Draco singing. And maybe a snog or two; but beware, the snogging may involve a person who isn't Draco. (Ducks another Bludger) Further more, I have given in to the desire to give my poor Snape a bit of romance. After re-reading the previous chapters, I have come to the conclusion that Snape has a teensy little crush. Unintended on my part, but there it is.

On a side note (Read: Katie's disjointed tangents for the day) -

1.) Yay! Three hundred reviews! To everyone that submitted a review, big hugs from me. Love you all.  
2.) Everyone: Go check out _'Disparaissant' _and _'Of Peppers and Tiramisu' _(both D/G), and make sure to leave a lovely review. I, personally, cannot wait for the next chapter of '_Of Peppers..._' (hint, hint, Sunday).  
3.) This is my space, and I can pimp out other stories if I like. Want me to pimp for you? Drop a review with the story you want me to read.  
4.) Speaking of reading, any of you lovely readers have favourite D/G stories, leave them in your reviews. I am all out of good ones to read, am way too lazy to sort through the million and one stories floating around, and I know you can help.  
5.) New chapter of '_She's Plotting Our Downfall_' will be completed soon. Sorry about the long wait. 

-Katie-

Disclaimer: Today I am making this the "unclaimer". I am tired of "disclaimers", and am thus making a new word. Or mangling the English language, depending on how you view it. If you recognise it, it means it's not mine. But that in no way is going to stop me from swiping it. I will, in a graceful gesture of goodwill (ah, I love alliteration), credit the brilliant mind that came up with it. So... Harry Potter and Co.- J.K. Rowling. And I am borrowing a line from '_The Princess Bride' _and_ 'Family Guy'_, respectively. See if you can find them.

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Chapter Twelve: Public Proclamations and Private Prevarication

The morning flew by in a blur for Ginny. History of Magic provided the perfect opportunity to replay the scene with Draco from that morning, and she spent the majority of the class considering all that had happened. Colin had to elbow her hard in the side to catch her attention when Professor Binns asked her about the causes of the Goblin Rebellion of 1612. Thankfully, she remembered Hermione droning on about this just the other day, and parroted it back to a delighted Professor Binns, who awarded Gryffindor five points. As soon as he turned back to his lecture, her mind drifted to her conversation with Draco.

_Ah, so he's Draco now. _The damnable voices in her head were, by all appearances, back.

_No! I mean, kind of. Well, it IS his name_, she defended.

One voice obviously had chosen to play devil's advocate, and snorted. _And now, after six years of mutual enmity, you've decided is the opportune time to employ it?_

_Oh, stuff it. He made some valid points this morning. Perhaps I have been a little rash in painting him as some aspiring Dark Wizard. I didn't bother to learn anything about him, or what he thinks. I just condemned him because of who his father is, and how he treated Ron, Harry and Hermione_.

_Oh yes, he LOVES them, just hasn't found a way to express his feelings. Aside from hexing and name-calling, of course. But really, he just wants to cuddle them all and compose flowery poetry in their honour_.

_Okay, maybe he treats them so badly because he just doesn't like them. But still; he was civil to me_, she replied.

A long pause preceded the response. _Well, yes, that's because he's attracted to you_.

_What? _Ginny spluttered. She hadn't realised she said that part aloud until Colin gave her a weird look. She smiled apologetically and diligently took notes until Colin's head began to nod with sleep.

_Come now, don't be dense. Ahem. Let me quote: 'If you're going to poison my dreams, Weasley, I at least deserve a kiss out of it.' Dreams, as in the plural usage of the word. As in, I-think-about-you-more-than-I-would-care-to-admit. And he went positively homicidal when he thought you were doing all of this out of some unrequited love for Harry. Not to mention the whole 'but you I could handle' speech. _

_But that's just... just..._

_Cat got your tongue, dear?, _the voice responded dryly.

_No! That's asinine, that's what it is. Malfoy does NOT harbour feelings for me._

_No, not at all. He just enjoys seeing you practically naked and snogging you senseless. I believe the term is Unresolved Sexual Tension._

_You. Are. MENTAL._

_Of course I am. I only exist in your head. Really, I thought you were a lot brighter than this, _the voice chided.

Ginny gave up with a mental shriek of frustration as class ended. She was only ten minutes into Potions, her last class before lunch, when a startling thought struck her. _Oh no! I have to apologise to Malfoy in front of the entire school at lunch! And I haven't even mentioned it to anyone yet! Ron's going to go spare! And I have no idea what to say, and everyone's going to stare, and-_

"Miss Weasley," Snape drawled dangerously.

With a start, Ginny spun around in her seat and looked at the professor. "Yes, sir?" she asked meekly.

He pointed at the cauldron hissing in front of her. Softly, he asked, "Is there a reason your potion is even a more hideous shade of orange than your hair?"

With a gulp, Ginny sped through the steps for the potion in her head. After adding the dried Billywig stings, she was supposed to stir clockwise 25 times. She realised she must have been stirring for at least the last five minutes. _Oh, bugger._

"You do realise you've absolutely destroyed your potion, don't you?" he continued.

Ginny closed her eyes and waited for him to deduct points, tell her how many detentions she would receive and make a fool of her in front of the entire class. After several long seconds, she cracked one eye and glanced up at him apprehensively. He was just standing there, a thoughtful look on his face. With a quick flick of his wand, the potion in her cauldron disappeared.

"Now," he said evenly. "Begin from scratch. I expect this potion to be perfect by the end of the period, Miss Weasley. And you will have a foot of parchment ready for me by next class on the importance of being mentally present whilst creating potions."

Ginny stared at him, her eyes rounding into a fair imitation of saucers. "Are you-" she cut off that thought. It would only get her in serious trouble. "Yes, sir," she tried.

Satisfied, he gave her a look of disgust and strode off.

---

Ginny readjusted the strap of her bag as she walked into the Great Hall. With a sigh of relief, she noticed that he wasn't there. His spot at the Slytherin table was empty, even though the other Slytherin seventh-years were chatting and gesturing as they ate. Ginny chose a spot at the Gryffindor table that faced the other side of the room. She knew it was cowardly, but if she didn't have to face that way, she wouldn't notice when he came in, and then she wouldn't have to apologise.

The table filled quickly, and she hardly noticed as Ron slid into the spot directly across from her. She was half-heartedly spooning stew into her bowl and listening to Harry tell Ron that the Quidditch training session scheduled for that afternoon was going to be cut short, since Slytherin had booked the pitch right after them. Ron was agreeing, saying how he didn't want to give them an opportunity to spy on them when he cut himself off. Ginny looked up, wondering what on earth could get Ron to shut up about Quidditch. He was sitting with a spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth, and looking over her shoulder, his eyes slitted.

"Weasley," came a drawl from directly behind her. "As much as the prospect of you suffering from an apoplexy appeals to me, try not to die for the next five minutes. I desperately want to see your reaction to what your sister is about to do."

Draco Malfoy, it appeared, had made his arrival to lunch with a typical flourish.

Ginny pleaded with Harry, who sat next to Ron, with her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turned. "Please don't make me do this," she said, her eyes begging. "I hate the thought of everyone staring at me."

He stood there, giving her an inscrutable look. Just as she was rising to her feet to get it over with, he gently shoved her back down with a hand to the shoulder.

"A moment of your attention, everyone," he called out. The students quickly fell quiet until he had a rapt audience. "Miss Weasley and I have reached an agreement. The challenge is off." He looked around, making sure to catch the gazes of many of the girls, who looked crestfallen. "We felt it would be too distracting to everyone, what with Quidditch season upon us, and the Headmaster feels that many of you," he paused to glare at Padma Patil, "are breaking school rules in attempts to win. So, the prank is over. There will be no more attacks on me, and anyone professing to have 'proof' will be dealt with harshly." He turned and held out his hand to her. "Miss Weasley will even verify this for the non-believers. Ginny?" he prompted.

Ron, who had been turning a progressively nastier shade of scarlet, overturned his bowl and scrambled to his feet when Malfoy said "Ginny". Harry barely had time to grab him around the waist as he launched himself across the table in an attempt to get at Malfoy. "Don't you touch my sister!" he bellowed. "How dare you call her Ginny?" he yelled as Dean and Neville joined Harry in dragging him back over the table and pinning him to the bench. He thrashed about angrily, sputtering incoherently as Ginny stared at him, horrified.

"Ron!" she hissed. "Ron! Dammit, stop! Dumbledore said we had to do this, you berk! Just shut up already!"

Mortified, she ignored the hand Malfoy still proffered and stood gracefully. "Thanks for provoking Ron, you arse. Now everyone is staring," she muttered.

The side of his mouth tipped up. "Not at all. I said I'd be nice to you; being nice to him was never part of the agreement. Besides, I did all of the hard work. Now you just have to confirm what I said."

Ginny looked around. Every single pair of eyes was on them, including the House ghosts', who hovered in the corner. She straightened her shoulders, even as an embarrassed blush flooded her face. "Malfoy's right. It's off. No reward, no more attempts, game over. I'm sorry I started this. It was wrong of me," she finished in a hurry. With that she threw a leg over the bench and slithered as far down in her seat as she could. Bracing her face in one hand, she shook her head. "Sometimes, I hate this place," she sighed.

Fabric rustled behind her. "So, Gryffindor has the pitch booked this afternoon, don't they?" he queried.

Ron looked ready to combust where he sat. "Yeah, we do," he spat belligerently. "And if I so much as see you anywhere near the pitch before your time slot, the team will use you for Bludger practise. Got it?"

A mocking sneer touched his lips as Draco pinned Weasley with a level glare. "Don't worry," he said quietly, looking at each member of the team in turn. "You won't see a single hair on my head. And no, Granger," he said quickly, "I don't have an Invisibility Cloak. Satisfied?"

Ron, hands still fisted, slowly began to return to his normal colour. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Just don't-"

Draco sighed. "Your threats are repetitive and tiresome, Weasley. Get some new ones." He turned on his heel and strolled over to the Slytherin table.

Or at least that's what Ginny assumed. She wasn't about to turn round and look, not with the glare Ron gave her. Surprisingly, he didn't say a word, just ate the sandwich Neville pushed into his hand. Grateful for the reprieve, Ginny morosely finished her lunch in silence.

---

Despite the unseasonably cold weather, Ginny's hair was plastered to her head with sweat. Harry sat on his broom off to the side, calling out the plays. Colin and Andrew Kirke, the Beaters, were acting as the opposing Chasers, trying to foul up the formation she and Seamus and Dennis were practising.

No one had been more surprised than Ginny when Colin turned out for team try-outs. He was startlingly good, and had spent a lot of extra time with Andrew going over the finer points of being a Beater. As a result, they worked as a fluid unit; Ginny thought charitably that they were almost as good as Fred and George were.

_Now_, she thought, _if only Seamus, Dennis and I could work that well together_.

Dennis, although an exceptional flier, was very small. This made him a prime target for an opposing team. Privately, Ginny thought one well-aimed Bludger would be the death of him.

Knowing that the other teams would likely attack Dennis as the weak link, Ron had come up with a very good idea to use Dennis' size to their advantage. This was the reason they had been practising the same play for the past half an hour. The play called for Dennis to act as a decoy, speeding for the opposing hoops with the Quaffle. Ginny flew directly below him, with Seamus trailing slightly higher and a few broom lengths behind.

It was a precision play, and they were still ironing out the timing. Dennis would keep the Quaffle until the other team closed in on him, when he would drop the Quaffle and pull up into a steep climb. Ginny, being just under him, would catch it. At that point, she would have two options, depending on whether the other team followed Dennis or went for her. If she was clear, she could take the shot at the goal. Otherwise, she would just throw the Quaffle directly above her head, where Seamus would be ready to score the goal. It was a brilliant play, if they could get the timing down.

They flew it over and over again, until Ginny was thoroughly sick of it and threw the Quaffle at Ron's head. He took the hint and left the Chasers to their own devices, taking Colin and Andrew to the other end of the pitch to practise leading the target. Andrew was actually very good at hitting the Bludger where a player was going. Personally, Ginny thought it was incredibly good luck. He just didn't seem smart enough to anticipate someone's moves.

They flew for another 45 minutes, until Ginny's teeth were chattering from the cold and Dennis could barely get his numb fingers to grasp the Quaffle anymore. Seamus, damn his Irish arse, was rosy-cheeked and cheerful.

"How in the world are you smiling, you half-wit?" she teased.

"It's the Irish blood, love. It retains enough of the alcohol we drink to keep us cosy even in the coldest weather." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Want me to come keep you warm?"

Ginny laughed and flew a tight circle around him as she reached out and punched his arm. "You're not my type, Seamus darling."

Dennis flew over and slid his broom sideways, bumping her thigh with his own. "Hey! Leaving me out? Where's my dose of the Chaser love?" he wheedled.

Ginny threw an affectionate arm around each of them and leant over to give Dennis a kiss on the cheek. "I'd never leave you out, sweeting. Can't have the team without you," she laughed.

Dennis held his cheek. "Hey, Weasley!" he shouted. "You're sister's so cold she's resorted to snogging us to keep warm!"

Ron, even from a distance, was very clearly displeased. As Harry, Ron, Andrew and Colin flew over, Dennis yipped and moved his broom behind Ginny. "Keep your brother away!" he shrieked jokingly. "Everyone knows he's obsessive about boys not going near you, Gin!"

Ron's face split into a grin. "Nah, just yanking your chain. I know my mates respect my sister," he laughed. Sobering, he said, "They better, if they know what's good for them."

Harry glanced at his wrist. "Ron, it's getting close to the time we wanted to be done by. Everyone's obviously freezing, and I don't want to still be flying when the Slytherins show up. Better to be showered and gone by then."

Ron nodded. "You're right. Everybody down. Take nice hot showers and then head up to the Great Hall. We'll have dinner together later and discuss how the session went. Seamus, I've got a new idea for a solo move to shake the Keeper from the goals. It's best suited to you, so remind me at dinner. Gin, great flying. That precision play you three are working on is really coming together. Dennis, your speed is a great asset; especially against Slytherin, since their Chasers are big and bulky. Colin, Andrew, you two are unbelievable. I never thought I'd see two Beaters that communicate as well as my brothers did. Harry, you know there's no Seeker that can keep pace with you. You've more talent in your little finger than the Slytherin team has put together. We're going to massacre them guys, just wait and see."

By the time he was done, everyone was beaming. Even Harry, who looked more present than Ginny had seen him in months. She hoped something was pulling him out of the depression that seemed to accompany him everywhere.

Propping her broom against her shoulder, she chatted with Colin on the way to the dressing rooms. The girls' and boys' changing rooms were down the same tunnel, but branched off in opposite directions. With a little wave, she headed off for her shower. Peeling off her sweat-dampened clothes, she left them on the floor and padded into the shower. The hot spray warmed her quickly, and felt good on her sore muscles.

With a sigh, she turned off the water, wrapped her towel around her and walked back into the changing area. When she turned the corner, she gave a little squeak of shock and stopped abruptly. Draco Malfoy was lounging on the bench where she had left her things, leaning back on his hands and facing her.

"Fancy meeting you here," he drawled, his eyes very dark in his fair-skinned face.

Clutching her towel, she took an involuntary step back. Forcibly gathering her thoughts, she said in a shocked voice, "What are you doing here?"

He smirked. "Well, if I had known you would be so dense, I would have brought supplies and drawn schematics for you," he said as he uncrossed his legs and stretched lazily.

She backed up another step as he stood. Gathering her anger about her like a suit of armour, Ginny went on the offensive. "Leave, Malfoy, right this instant," she demanded, fighting the blush that made her face flame.

"Or what? You'll snap me with your towel?" He tapped his cheek with a thin finger thoughtfully. "It might sting for a minute, but I think the end results would be worth a little discomfort on my part," he said with a leer.

Ginny cast him a dark look. "I swear to you; keep it up and I will hex your testicles into Snitches and use them for training sessions, Malfoy."

He took a leisurely step forward and gave her a wide-eyed, little boy look. "I'd prefer it if you didn't. Besides the horribly scarring notion of Potter holding my testicles, transfigured or otherwise, I'd actually like to have one or two ridiculously beautiful children that remind me of myself one day."

Partially forgetting that she was next to naked, Ginny raised an eyebrow. Conversation with him, whilst vexing in the extreme, was rather fun. "Who would be stupid enough to breed with you?"

Draco feigned an injured look and spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Come now, don't be rude. There are plenty of girls in this school that would just love to have sex with me."

"There are?" she replied dubiously.

"Oh yes, and when I walk by, they all gasp." He moved forward again, only a step or two away from her. "You see, I am so beautiful I take their breath away."

Ginny moved back a few quick steps and put a bench between them, tightening her grip on her towel. "Actually, I'm leaning more towards the gasping being an attempt to not spill the contents of their stomachs all over you in disgust."

He narrowed his eyes and gave her a dark grin, touching a hand to his heart. "Ouch. You are vicious, you know that?"

"Yes, it's one of my many charms." Ginny's eyes widened in alarm as she realised she was flirting with Draco Malfoy in a deserted changing room, wearing nothing but a towel. _Must remember to work on my sense of self-preservation. _

He stepped over the bench and placed an arm on either side of her head, caging her against the lockers at her back. "Truly, you have a dizzying intellect," he whispered as he bent his head towards her.

She wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted before she shoved him away. "What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly. "You don't even like me!" _That_, she thought, _was not what I meant to say._

He looked at her quizzically. "Who said I had to like you to want you?"

Ginny gaped at him, momentarily stunned into speechlessness. He took her shocked silence as an opportunity to close in again, this time wrapping his arms loosely about her waist. He nuzzled her, the damp tendrils of her hair tickling his cheek. He licked her neck before taking a delicate earlobe in his mouth.

Undone, desire curling through her stomach, Ginny put her hands on his shoulders to push him away. She was dismayed when, instead of shoving him, she pulled him flush against her. He let her earlobe slide out from between his lips, angling his head instead to capture her mouth. He kissed her with a hard desperation, like he couldn't get enough.

Dizzily, Ginny thought she could get used to being kissed like this, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Giving up for the moment, she kissed him back, running her hands over his shoulders, finally coming to rest at the nape of his neck. When she felt his tongue sweeping into her mouth, she gave his hair a quick tug before threading her hand through it. She used her splayed fingers on his head to force him to deepen the kiss. They stayed like that until, gasping, they were forced to break apart for some much needed oxygen.

Ginny stared up at him. _Say something, you twit._ "You don't respect me." _That's not what I was going for. What is wrong with the connection between my brain and my mouth?_

His lips twitched with mirth. "Ginny, let me assure you; I hold you in the highest regard."

They looked at each other for a long moment. Ginny closed her eyes, which only served to remind her that he was gently squeezing her bottom.

"Draco, what you're holding is my arse. And that, I think, says it all."

"See? You called me Draco. That must count for something. And you should know that I can respect you and fondle you at the same time," he added, his eyes laughing at her.

Ginny shook her head in mute amazement at his purposeful obtuseness. "Get your hands off my arse," she commanded. _Ah, that's better._

His lips twisted into a full smirk. "I'd rather not. It's very nice, you know. Although I imagine it's rather a lot nicer without a thick towel between us. Don't suppose I could persuade you to lose it, could I?"

Ginny clamped her hand to her chest, securing the loosened towel. Ducking to the side, she put some much need distance between them. She cocked her head, and considered him carefully. "Have you been drinking any illegal potions lately?"

"What? Like Love Potions, you mean?" he asked innocently. When she nodded, he continued. "No, of course not. I've been doing some thinking, is all. I find you attractive, in spite of your awful hair, and even that is growing on me." He shook his head and raised an eyebrow. "Of course, that fact alone is enough to make me think perhaps someone slipped something in my drink. But no. Perhaps it's that you're a brilliant conversationalist?" he offered.

At her doubtful look, he tried again. "A challenge?" Again, she looked dubious as she forcefully shook her head. "How about I have no idea why the hell I'm here, or why I think about you at odd times?"

She gave him a snotty little smirk of her own. "Now that has the ring of truth to it," she said drily. "Now that that's out of the way, give me one good reason I shouldn't scream down the walls so my brother and friends have the reason they've always dreamt of to beat you into a pulpy mess."

He gave her a knee-melting look. "Because you want me here," he replied confidently. "Otherwise, you'd have screamed a long time ago."

This time she didn't back away when he began to advance on her once more. "Is it so hard to believe that I might find you attractive?" he asked. "Because I do," he said quietly, touching her arm. "When you went all pleady don't-make-me-do-this in the Great Hall, I made the announcement for you." He shook his head. "The gods only know why, but I did. My father would go batty if he knew. And I've been thinking about our conversation. We're not so different." At her look of disbelief, he amended his previous statement. "Alright, we are different. There's worlds between us. But I think you're damned good-looking. Even when you're not wearing a towel." He smiled evilly. "Especially when you're not wearing a towel, but I don't suppose I'm going to get to see that. Yet," he smirked.

Ginny looked at him, amazed. This was as close to coming clean as Draco Malfoy was ever likely to get. _Wait. He thinks I'm good-looking?_ "Is that how you see me?" she asked in a dismayingly breathless voice. "You think I'm... _pretty_?" she finished haltingly.

He tilted his head to the side and looked her up and down. "No, I see you more as an Ann Summers Wizarding Lingerie model waiting to happen."

Ginny gulped. "A WHAT?"

He gave a quick chuckle, laughing at the stunned girl in front of him. Deciding to have some fun at her expense, he added, "You know, prancing around in stilettos and a sexy little pair of black knickers trimmed with niffler fur. Ooh! And pasties. Definitely a good look for you. Perhaps I'll be buying you a Christmas gift."

Ginny thought she was going to fall over. Snorting, she replied, "I am SO not a stilettos kind of girl. And I'm not even sure I want to know what pasties are." She held up an imperious hand as he opened his mouth. "Do NOT explain it to me. You'll give me heart failure, I'm sure." She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Er.. as charming as this has been, I think I'm done having an insane, entirely unlikely conversation with you in nothing but a towel. I'm getting dressed now," she added pointedly.

Purposely ignoring her meaning, Draco collapsed gracefully on a nearby bench. With a wave, he said, "Don't mind me. Go right ahead."

Careful not to flash anything, Ginny knelt down and grabbed an elbow guard, which she flung with great accuracy at his head. "I meant you need to leave, so I can get dressed," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Rubbing his head where the elbow guard had glanced off, he pouted, "I can't leave yet. Those gits on your team would see me."

With a sigh of supreme annoyance, Ginny acknowledge his point. "Can I trust you?" she asked doubtfully.

"No, probably not," he said truthfully, his lips twitching with the urge to grin.

"Well, I'm not waiting here in a towel for my team to leave," she huffed. "Then I'd still be naked and alone with you..." she trailed off, obviously mortified. "Gah! Get over there in the showers, Malfoy."

He cast a sorrowful look at her. "We're back to Malfoy?"

"You'd prefer Draco?" she asked, surprised. "Are you sure you're not under the influence of some spell? Oh! Damn your eyes, stop getting off track. Go back in the showers and sing." At his raised eyebrow, she explained further. "If you sing, I can hear where you are. If you stop singing, or move, I'd be able to hear it and hex you into next week."

"Well, that's not very romantic," he complained.

With a wry glance she replied, "Trust me when I tell you, I've never considered the words 'Draco Malfoy' and 'romantic' in the same sentence. Now get!" She shooed him with her hands, herding him around the corner into the showers. "Get to singing," she ordered.

"There once was a bloke named Puck," he chortled.

She silenced him with one deadly look. "I absolutely will transfigure your testicles into Snitches if you continue that song," she said with malice.

He threw a charming smile her way. "What's wrong with it? I'm rather partial to that song," he said in a very self-satisfied voice.

At the glare she levelled at him, he raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll behave. Go on," he prodded.

She turned around and walked away, pausing at the corner to give him one more death glare.

"Doesn't mean I can't imagine what's going on out there," he muttered.

"I heard that," she yelled.

"Bloody red-haired women and their bloody hearing," he added mutinously.

"Start singing!" she ordered.

Huffing, he sang the only song that came to mind, a lullaby that his mother sang to him when he was small.

"_Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,  
Smiles awake you when you rise.  
__Sleep, pretty darlings, do not cry,  
__And I will sing a lullaby:  
__Rock them, a lulla, lullaby.  
__Care is heavy, therefore sleep you;  
__You are care, and care must keep you.  
__Sleep, pretty darlings, do not cry,  
__And I will sing a lullaby:  
__Rock them, a lulla, lullaby_." 

Ginny sat on the bench, the clothes in her hand forgotten. His voice, although slightly rusty, was a clear tenor, and it beautifully complemented the song. She recognised it as one her mum had sung to her when she was small, and sighed happily at the memories. A moment of silence passed before she called out, "Keep singing. I'm not done yet. And you have a beautiful voice, did you know that?"

A very disgruntled Draco Malfoy replied, "I can't believe you're making me sing. I'm beginning to think you're the spawn of some very evil demon. And I can't think of any other songs, so you're stuck. How about I just talk?" he asked hopefully.

Ginny smirked to herself. "No, you have to sing. I remember that song from when I was little; I used to like it very much. How about the one from _'Songs of Innocence'_? Do you know that one? The first line is something like, '_Sweet dreams form a shade'_..."

He was silent a long moment. Grudgingly, he said, "Yeah, I know that one. Are all women born with the capacity for estrogenical tyranny, or is it just you?" He paused. "Have I mentioned that I think you're evil?"

Ginny laughed. "Consider it your punishment for sneaking into the girls' changing rooms and trying to catch me naked. You're going to get away with it without even a pummelling from my teammates. Don't whine; you're getting off light." She began to dress quickly as his voice filled the room again. _He really does have a very pretty voice._

_"Sweet dreams form a shade  
O'er my lovely infants head.  
__Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,  
__By happy silent moony beams.  
__Sweet sleep with soft down,  
__Weave thy brows an infant crown.  
__Sweet sleep Angel mild,  
__Hover o'er my happy child.  
__Sweet smiles in the night,  
__Hover over my delight.  
__Sweet smiles Mothers smiles  
__All the livelong night beguiles.  
__Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,  
__Chase not slumber from thy eyes,  
__Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,  
__All the dovelike moans beguiles.  
__Sleep sleep happy child.  
__All creation slept and smil'd.  
__Sleep sleep, happy sleep,  
__While o'er thee thy mother weep.  
__Sweet babe in thy face,  
__Holy image I can trace.  
__Sweet babe once like thee,  
__Thy maker lay and wept for me.  
__Wept for me for thee for all,  
__When he was an infant small.  
__Thou his image ever see.  
__Heavenly face that smiles on thee.  
__Smiles on thee on me on all,  
__Who became an infant small,  
__Infant smiles are his own smiles,  
__Heaven & earth to peace beguiles."_

She was fully dressed by the time his voice died away. Sitting dreamily on the bench, she was happily thinking of the Burrow, and her mum, when...

"WEASLEY!"

She started. "What?" she yelled crossly.

"I said," he drawled snottily, "are you clothed now?"

"Oh. Yes, you can come back out now." She gave him a dreamy, happy smile as he rounded the corner. Draco stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her, all prim and proper back in her school uniform and robes, smiling a dopey smile that would make Loony Lovegood proud. And then it hit him. _Women, _he thought_, are silly, romantic creatures at heart. And I, miserable stupid git that I am, was just singing sweet romantic baby songs to her. Oh, gods, what have I done? Sweet Salazar, I am a complete idiot._

Panicked, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Weasley," he sneered. "You are a complete moron."

She snapped out of her very pleasant reverie and eyed the desperate looking blond. "What?"

"I said you're a moron. I hate singing, I hate you, and I don't even know why I'm still here," he sneered.

Seeing right through him, Ginny snickered. Which, of course, only served to confuse him even more. "What?" she asked mockingly. "You think I'm sitting here thinking how romantic you are?"

At his uncomfortable look, she burst out into a full-fledged laugh. "Please. I was thinking about home, and my mum. Gods, you are completely transparent, you know that?" she wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

Indignant, Draco replied, "Hey! I can be romantic!" Realising what had just escaped his mouth, he clamped his lips shut. _Not another bloody word, Draco._

Taking pity on him, Ginny stood and picked up her broom and the bag with her Quidditch kit. She walked past him, stopping at the door. "And I'm the moron?" she asked sweetly.

"Hey!" he said. _Oh, very eloquent, Draco. Try again. _"I wasn't done talking to you yet," he ground out.

She gave him a remarkable imitation of his own trademark smirk. "Oh, is that what we were doing? Well, I'm hungry. Enjoy your practise," she said with a mocking grin. She opened the door and glanced around. Apparently satisfied, she turned back to him. "If you want to finish this 'conversation', meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 20.00 and we can 'talk' then."

Completely startled, Draco stared at her as she flounced out the door. _Someone should write a book on insane women and how to translate them._

_--- _

Ginny spent most of her meal staring at the table. _I can't believe I said that. What was I thinking, inviting Draco sodding Malfoy to the Astronomy Tower? _Ginny shook her head. _I just can't believe that actually happened. Things like that don't happen in real life! It's like one of those novels Hermione reads when she thinks no one's paying attention. Bodice-Rippers, she called them. _Ginny shook her head again ruefully. _I simply can't believe it. What was I thinking? What was HE thinking? I'm insane. Ron'll kill me. And him? They'll be lucky if a Locating Charm finds enough pieces of him to bury in a thimble!_

She started as someone slapped her shoulder. "What? What'd I miss?" she asked dazedly.

Hermione's curious brown eyes stared at her from across the table as she carefully laid down the dusty tome she was perusing. "Seamus was just talking about the play you lot practised today," she said as she gave Ginny a searching look.

"Yeah, it was brill!" Dennis laughed as he slapped Ginny's shoulder again. "We've got it cold; Slytherin is going down!"

Ginny coloured as a rather crude application of Dennis' words drifted through her mind. "Yeah," Ginny echoed. "They'll be toast."

Ron leaned forward from the other side of Seamus. "What're you talking about?" he asked around a mouthful of pudding.

"Ron!" Ginny and Hermione said together. Their disapproving looks made him swallow the rest of what was in his mouth. "Sorry, Hermione. I was saying, I hope you're not discussing tactics where anyone could hear you!" he chastised.

Ginny snorted and turned up her nose. "Don't be a prat. No one's listening."

"The point is, they could be. Just be cautious-"

Hermione laughed and tucked her book away in her bag. "Now you sound like Mad-Eye Moody." Ginny giggled as Hermione pointed at her. "Constant Vigilance!" they chorused together.

Harry's untidied head poked out from the other side of Lavender Brown. "What are you two doing, channelling one another? Like the bloody Bobsey Twins, you are," he said with a crooked smile.

Hermione burst into laughter at that, along with Dennis and Colin. After she had subsided, she explained who the Bobsey Twins were to the non-Muggleborns.

Ginny leaned across the table and motioned Hermione forward. Making sure to keep her voice down, she whispered, "Have you noticed anything different about Harry lately?"

Hermione paused thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, he seemed very...here this afternoon. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, he was the same way at the training session. I wonder if he's pulling out of it," Ginny mused.

"Maybe," Hermione agreed. "But don't get your hopes up," she cautioned. "He could backslide at any moment. I'll keep a closer eye on him, though."

Ginny was leaning back when Hermione stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Speaking of keeping a close eye on, somebody has looked over here at least a dozen times. Care to guess who?"

Ginny could feel the blush creeping up her neck as she tried to look innocent. "Not a clue."

Hermione frowned. "You're a terrible liar. Spill it."

Ginny gave her a cheeky grin. "Not a chance. Maybe tomorrow you and I'll have a nice little chat. That is, if I'm satisfied that not a word will ever reach my darling brother's ears."

Ginny gave the older girl a puzzled look when she held up the fingers of one hand. "Is that some sort of code?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head. "Sometimes, I forget how different it is here in the wizarding world. It means Girl Scout's honour. Basically, I swear I'll keep whatever it is confidential."

Ginny gave a satisfied nod. "Done. How about right after last class, before dinner?"

Hermione smiled. "Done."

---

Ginny paced along the outer wall of the Astronomy Tower. Most of the tower was covered by an overhang, but the outer edge was open to the night air, affording an exceptional view of the sky. Nervously, she kept glancing at the door. _Where is he? Maybe he decided not to come. Maybe I mistook what happened. Maybe... Why the hell am I nervous about Draco Malfoy?_

She was still pondering that when the door swung open silently. He was outlined by the torchlight behind him, his pale hair gleaming and the rest of him thrown into shadows. Ginny started violently when he appeared, and nervously swiped her hair back as he moved towards her.

Walking up to her, Draco felt a twinge of nerves flutter in his stomach. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted from foot to foot, at a loss for words. _C'mon, Draco, say something. _"The moonlight suits you, you know." _Oh, brilliant. Why not drop to one knee and compose an ode to her beauty, you great pillock?_

Ginny blushed. "Thank you," she replied quietly.

They stood there and stared at each other for several long minutes. Finally, Ginny said, "Now that we're here, I haven't the slightest idea what to say."

"Well, no one expects a Weasley to have mastered the fine art of conversation," he replied snidely.

"I don't exactly see you leading the way," she snapped.

He eyed her. "So."

She crossed her arms. "So," she repeated.

"Alright," he sighed. He sounded very annoyed. "You're the one that wanted to meet up here to 'talk'. So talk."

Ginny stared down at her feet with an air of great interest. "Er..."

"Oh bloody hell!" he snarled. "We'll never get around to it at this rate! Let's just skip the pointless small talk, shall we?" He snatched her forward and kissed her, hard.

Thankful that he had taken the decision out of her hands, Ginny melted into him. _This is what I wanted._ "You taste good," she mumbled.

He pulled back with a laugh. "What did you just say?" Even in the moonlight, he could see the blushed that suffused her cheeks.

"Erm, nothing. Nothing at all."

He tugged the lock of hair that spilled over her shoulder. "Funny," he smirked, "I thought you said I tasted good. Is that what you said?"

"No," she grumbled.

He nibbled at her lips. "Tell the truth, little girl. Or else I'll have to..." He grabbed her and walked her backwards until she was trapped between his body and the wall. Pushing her robes open, he bent down and sucked on her neck. "Didn't your mummy ever tell you what happened to little girls that didn't tell the truth?" he growled against her skin.

Ginny shrieked with laughter. "Stop that! It tickles!" she choked out. He pulled back and grinned. "Draco Malfoy, are you teasing me? I didn't know you were even capable of teasing!"

The grin dropped off of his face. "There's a lot I'm capable of that you don't know," he said seriously. "I told you before, you really don't know anything about me at all. And most of what you think you know are lies passed around by the Wonder Twits," he added.

Ginny put her hands on her hips. "I recall numerous occasions that I witnessed myself where you were a complete and utter bastard. One of them ended with you being chased by your own bogeys," she sniped.

"I never said I wasn't a bastard. Just that I'm not always a bastard. I have good qualities. Like my charm," he added pompously.

"Arrogance is not charm," Ginny responded with a raised eyebrow.

He gave her a small smile, cautious. "Well, you seem to like me," he pointed out.

"The gods only know why," she quipped. "You're kind of like mould. You just sort of pop up when one isn't paying attention."

Serious, he gazed at her, his eyes lost in shadow. "So you do like me?"

Ginny thought about it. "I'm not sure. Maybe. I don't not like you, if that makes any sense," she answered truthfully.

"So you can snog me, but you don't know if you like me?" He sounded incredulous.

"As you so aptly put it, I don't have to like you to want you," Ginny replied evenly.

He was silent as he moved away from her and leaned out over the wall.

"Don't jump," she smirked. "I'm not worth it."

He threw her an annoyed glance and turned his face up towards the stars.

"Gods, you're a moody git, you know that?" she huffed.

He stewed for another moment before turning to face her. "So you don't like me," he said tonelessly.

"You don't like me either, so what do you care?" she asked quickly.

He looked down at her with a steady gaze. "I never said that."

"Yes you did," she reminded him. "Down in the changing room. You said-"

"I know what I said," he cut in. "I said I didn't have to like you to want you. But I never actually said 'Ginny I don't like you', did I?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "It was implied. Stop playing word games."

His smirk returned, full force. "But I'm so good at them," he drawled.

"Ha ha. Your wit is without equal," she replied with a quick grin. "Now if you're done with the mood swings..."

"I'm not. I want to know if you like me or not," he pouted. "I'm a prize catch, you know," he said winningly.

Ginny patted him on the head, like a little boy. "I'm sure you are. I might like you, but only a tiny bit. There. Does that soothe your ego?" she asked drily.

"Oh, yes. I feel much better now." He caught her up in his arms. "Don't you agree?"

"I don't know," she joked. "I can't tell until you kiss me."

He licked her lower lip and gave a playful little growl. "I told you I was charming."

They stayed locked together, unaware of time going by.

Ginny decided that she enjoyed kissing him very much, and she could feel bad about it later. The fact was, she liked this Draco Malfoy. He was being affectionate and funny and... well, charming. She knew that he was also a first-rate git, an arrogant nasty bastard, and moody, to boot. Not to mention his affinity for terrorising her brother, Harry and Hermione. He could be ruthlessly vicious, striking at an opponent's most obvious flaw, picking at them until they bled. But none of this was factoring in her decisions right now, simply because he made her head spin and her blood sing. _Sappy and melodramatic_, she acknowledged, _but true_. Draco Malfoy, curse him, made her giddy.

She would have laughed if she could read his mind. _Gods in heaven, this is nice. Who'd have thought it? Me and Ginny Weasley. Blaise, damn his smug arse, called it. Spot on. Ah well, it's not like he'll ever find out. Just a bit of a snog, and then... well damn. If we go back to the way things were, she won't kiss me anymore. And I sure as hell can't date Little Miss Gryffindor. Gah! Dad would shit himself. And I'd be stoned by the other Slytherins. Maybe I can convince her that we should meet in secret every now and then. What's a guy to do?_

They were just getting to the good part, where clothes got unfastened, when a noise caught Draco's attention. Tearing himself away, he looked at the door.

Perplexed, and just the slightest bit dazed, Ginny stared at him. "What is-" she got out, before his hand slapped over her mouth. With wide eyes, she nodded as he lifted a finger to his lips and removed his hand from her mouth.

Draco crept over to the door and stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity before he walked back to her. He shrugged his shoulders and, in a normal voice said, "Whoever it is, there's two of them, and they're talking in the stairwell for the moment."

Horrified, Ginny stared at him. "Well, do you think they'll go away?"

Again, he shrugged. "Probably not. Most people don't walk up to the Astronomy Tower and turn back around when they get there."

"Are you mad?" she squeaked. "They'll see us! We need to get down from here!" She grabbed his arm in a death grip. "I'm serious!"

Looking pointedly at her hand, he pried her fingers loose. "We can't get down from here. They're in the stairwell," he said calmly.

Slightly hysterical at the prospect of being caught in the Astronomy Tower with Draco Malfoy, Supreme Git, Ginny wrung her hands in distress. "Think of something!" she ordered.

His lips twisted. "A moment, please, whilst I eviscerate myself. You, of course, can use my intestines to rappel down the wall. I will stand here and bleed to death with aplomb. If you'd like, I'll even tell whoever it is to go rot for you," he said.

"I hope you choke on all that sarcasm." She slanted him a distinctly nasty glance. "Git."

Draco waved a hand airily. "Never let it be said that I was the one that let chivalry die."

Ginny's snort of derision was her only reply.

Draco put his hand to his brow and gave a melodramatic sigh. "Women are SO unappreciative," he drawled theatrically.

"Draco?" Ginny asked sweetly. He was learning to fear that particular tone.

"Yes, darling," he tried meekly.

She ignored the 'darling'. "DO shut up and help me find a way to hide us. They're coming up the stairs now; I can hear them," she said frantically.

"You wish to hide then?" he asked in a perfectly normal tone, as he grabbed her elbow and shuffled her over to the far side of the door, where the shadows were thick.

"No," she hissed, "I thought we'd remove our clothing and dance wildly, and just tell whoever it is that we were practising for the Samhain Festival."

He put his mouth directly against her ear and whispered, "As appealing a prospect as that is, I think perhaps the way to go is... _Obfuscus!_"

Ginny started. Grudgingly, she allowed that he was a quick thinker. The particular charm he cast would make them fade away into the shadows around them. She leaned against him and whispered, "Have I ever told you that I think your sense of humour is wretched?"

"Twice, I think," he whispered back. "But do go ahead; I never tire of hearing you say it."

Ginny was about to issue a scathing retort when the door opened. She instinctively flattened herself against his larger body, seeking the protection it would provide. She gasped in shock as the identities of the people became clear.

Luckily, he pressed her face into his side and muffled the sound. The gods only knew what his Head of House would do if he caught them.

Prof Sinistra and Prof Snape strolled towards the open walkway at the far side of the room. Sufficiently recovered, Ginny peered out from Draco's side, curious. Both listened raptly to their professors' conversation.

"I told you, Severus," Prof Sinistra crowed delightedly. "I told you, didn't I?"

"Indeed," Prof Snape retorted sourly. "Shameful, if you ask me."

"Oh come now, what's wrong with a little romance?" she said, her smile full of mischief. "It's the most natural thing in the world. Don't you remember what that's like?" she teased.

Even in the dim light, Draco could see his Head of House's face darken in mortification. "Romance is for fools, Melissande," he replied stiffly.

Draco avidly watched the scene in front of his eyes. _Was Prof Sinistra hitting on Snape? No chance, _he thought_. She's way too good-looking for him. _But it appeared that she was when she leaned in and wrapped a hand around his wrist.

"Come here, Severus," she said quietly. "I'd like to show you something. Look up." The last was still said quietly, but there was no chance of mistaking it for anything other than what it was: an order.

She moved behind him and lifted an arm over his shoulder, pointing to the sky. "You see that there? That milky glow is a meteor cluster; tonight is a meteor shower the likes of which won't be seen again for fifty years. It's very special; I've been anticipating this for weeks," she sighed happily.

"I'll bet that wasn't the only thing she's been anticipating," Ginny breathed in his ear. Draco smirked down at her before turning back to the drama in front of them.

Snape was clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I wouldn't want to distract you from it," he managed to croak.

She looked at him sharply. "Don't be ridiculous. I wanted to share this with you," she said, hurt lacing her words.

"Melissande," he began uneasily, edging away from her.

She threw up her hands, clearly exasperated. "Severus!" she shrilled. "You are the stupidest man I have ever met! I have been throwing myself at you all evening, and you look like you're being threatened with an Unforgivable!"

"You've... what?" he stammered.

"Clueless," she muttered as she grabbed the collar of his robes and drew him forward. "Completely clueless. Kiss me, you idiot," she commanded.

And what happened next quickly had Draco covering Ginny's eyes. "Don't watch," he said mournfully. "I think I'm scarred for life!" A shudder ran the length of his body as he glared with revulsion at the two professors. "Really! At their age... Oh, now THAT is just disgusting."

"Draco?" Ginny whispered, trying to pry his hand away from her eyes. "Draco?" she tried again.

"What?" he asked distractedly.

"Erm, I think they're busy enough that they won't notice if we slip out now," she offered timidly, trying to avoid looking in the direction of her professors.

He glanced down at her, and quickly back at the embracing couple. "You're right. Let's go. Quiet now..." They made it to the door without incident. Silently edging it open just enough for them to slip through, Draco shoved her through before following. Easing the door closed, he ushered her down the stairs and into a deserted corridor.

He glanced at the clock behind her. "Shit! It's an hour past curfew!" he cursed. He looked down and watched as her face turned white, making her freckles stand out vividly in contrast.

"Ron's going to kill me!" she breathed. "I told him I was going to the library, and that closed at curfew! Oh no," she moaned, "I am so dead." She grabbed his robes in her little fists. "What am I going to do?"

Draco disengaged her hands and thought hard. "Tell him you went to the Prefects' Bath after you left the library, and fell asleep in the bathtub. Tell him Pansy found you whilst she was making her rounds and sent you back to Gryffindor Tower. I'll get her to back it up. She'll stop by your table at breakfast tomorrow and take points. How's that work for you?"

She wrinkled her little nose at him in a way that was rather endearing. "That doesn't work for me at all. That's like you're taking points for kissing you." She paused. "How about a warning?"

He smirked. "Fine, but you owe me, Weasley."

Ginny turned and walked off. "That's what you think," she tossed over her shoulder before disappearing around a corner.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So? What do you all think? Gah! That was long. My fingers hurt now. Well, review and give me sugar!

The "unclaimers":  
"Truly, you have a dizzying intellect." -The Princess Bride  
"estrogenical tyranny"- Family Guy  
The two lullabies, respectively: '_Golden Slumbers Kiss Your Eyes'_, by Thomas Decker, 1603; and '_Songs of Innocence: A Cradle Song'_, by William Blake, 1789. 


	13. No Smooth Sailing For the SS Fire and Ic...

A/N: Pleeeeeease don't hurt me. Mea Culpa. I've been in a coma. Okay, maybe not. But I've definitely been comatose. I have finally encountered the dreaded writer's block. It kidnapped my plot bunny and didn't bother to leave a ransom note, the bastard. So, in advance: I apologise for this chapter. It is crap. It is un-beta'd. I hate it. I forced myself to write SOMETHING. I will likely re-write it when inspiration strikes. But as I fear the wrath of angry readers, I offer this as a shot of anaesthetic. Also, with university back in session, and my first baby on the way, real life intrudes. I promise to try and get a chapter done once a month, though.

Katie's disjointed tangents for the day -

1.) Morning sickness is evil. I am so, SO glad it's finally over. I love food way too much to survive on a diet of ginger ale and saltine crackers. Blech.  
2.) In an effort at motivating myself, I went back and checked out reviews for last chapter again. **Legolas-Obssesionist**'s promise of Naked Draco Cookies did it. How can anyone resist an offering like that? (Though she's probably retracted the offer since it took me so long to write anything.)  
3.) Pimpage of the update: The lovely **tkmoore**'s '_Hands'_, here on this site. Beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful story with fantastic imagery. Okay, I'm done with my fangirl squeeing. But I adore her story.  
4.) I retain my right to pimp. Recommendations are always welcome.  
5.) Love D/G ficcage? On LiveJournal (since website addresses don't appear here), **Sarea Okelani **had a Christmas Fic Contest. The UserID is **the(underscore)feast **, and there are lots of great stories in there, including a fantastic one from **Mynuet**. D/G goodness aplenty; a Merry Christmas indeed.  
6.) '_She's Plotting Our Downfall_' will be a spur of the moment thing. If inspiration strikes, I will dive for the keyboard. I promise. 

-Katie-

Disclaimer: Routine disclaimer applies. Simply too brain dead at this point to try and be cute.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: No Smooth Sailing For the S.S. Fire and Ice

Ginny silently vowed to learn a few of the more insidious hexes as she listened to Pansy Parkinson loudly berate her for being out past curfew. She had tried to look suitably ashamed, at least for the first five minutes after Pansy strutted to the Gryffindor table and began to harangue her with a vicious smile. The shamed look quickly slid off of her face and was replaced with embarassed anger as Pansy droned on.

The worst moment was when Pansy turned to Hermione. In a syrupy voice, she inquired, "I'm sure the Head Girl would know what the rules are regarding prefects that break regs?"

Hermione, face pinced with distaste at having to agree with the Slytherin, said, "Pug-fa... I mean, Parkinson," she corrected with a false smile, "is right, Gin. If you're caught out again, Prof McGonagall will have the option to appoint a new prefect in your place."

With a menacing glare at Hermione, Pansy sniffed in disgust and stalked to her own table.

After a few pats on the back for Hermione and sympathetic murmurs for Ginny, everyone returned to their breakfasts. Ginny, face still red from embarassment, decided she owed Draco a kiss and a punch. A kiss for his remarkably effective solution, and a punch to the ribs for letting his nasty friend have free rein to berate her in public.

-

Pansy gave Blaise a saucy grin as she gracefully slid into the empty place he had saved her. Cutting her eyes at Draco, she asked, "That what you had in mind?"

He gave her a noncommital shrug and continued to spread jam on his toast. "Good enough, I suppose."

Blaise snorted. "Please, Draco. You're making her blush with all that praise." Snaking an arm around Pansy, Blaise laid his head on her shoulder and peered at Draco through his hair. "Besides, I do believe you still owe us an explanation. Surely you didn't expect Pansy to do that out of the kindness of her heart?"

"So much for male solidarity," Draco grumbled.

With a wicked smile, Blaise replied, "Maybe I'm feeling feminine today."

Draco snorted. "Can't express shock I'm not feeling, I suppose."

"Subterfuge from a Slytherin? No, can't expect that," Blaise purred. "So, how about that explanation?"

Draco eyed his friend with open malice. Obviously, he wasn't going to get out of this. Blaise had carefully chosen seats at the end of the table, with Crabbe and Goyle acting as a buffer between them and their housemates further down. _At least he had the foresight to provide a little privacy_, Draco thought sourly. Heaving a sigh of resignation, he leant forward and motioned them to do the same. "I will kill you both, with endless rounds of torture first, if this leaves the three of us. Understand?"

They nodded eagerly. If Draco was this defensive without saying anything, what they were about to hear would doubtlessly be the juiciest gossip of the year.

"I paid her a visit in the girls' changing rooms at the Quidditch pitch, and we came to an understanding," he murmured, stressing the last word with a self-satisfied smirk. "She invited me to meet her at the Astronomy Tower last night to finish our... discussion."

Pansy gave him a knowing grin. "Girl must be one hell of a conversationalist to snag widdle Dwaco's attention like this." Raising an eyebrow, she added, "Must have a very talented mouth."

Blaise snickered at Draco's thunderous look. He and Pansy had worked out their game plan earlier this morning in the Common Room. "Easy with the claws, Pans. Draco seems slightly put out. Is it true love, widdle Dwaco?" he needled.

Draco rolled a shoulder and took a deep breath. _Play it cool. Smooth._ "Not at all. Just a bit of fun. She's decent looking enough. Nice tits. Just enjoying what's being offered, is all." Draco silently added, _It's not serious. And they're just having a bit of fun, trying to rile me up. Besides, things with Ginny are just a snog here, a feel there, a dash of enjoyable companionship in between. It's not like we're going to be married. Just normal attraction. It'll go away soon enough, I'm sure. I'll get bored and move on._

Blaise fought to keep his face impassive. "Must be nice not to have to worry about the niceties of a relationship," he said consideringly.

Not liking the calculating look on his face, Draco replied warily, "What do you mean?"

With the air of one about to impart a great secret, Blaise gave a small smile. "Well, just that there's no obligation. You meet, you snog, you leave. No annoying getting-to-know-you chats, no silly romance, no feelings, nothing. You're not tied down. And you don't have to hex every boy that looks at her, since you're not together." Blaise tucked his hair behind his ears. Earnestly, he continued. "Really, you're free. She can prance around with her little Gryffindor boyfriend, Thomas. He'll have to do all of the dull lovey things. You get no-strings-attached. Free as an eagle owl, mate. In fact..." he trailed off consideringly.

Draco bit. Leaning forward even more, he motioned impatiently. "In fact, what?"

Blaise shook his head, as if to clear away his musings. _Took the bait. Oh, I've got this set up perfectly, don't I?_ "I was just thinking that, if she was amicable, I might take her off your hands when you're done with her," he said thoughfully. "Like you said, great rack. Never would have noticed if you hadn't pointed it out. But yeah, think I'd fancy a go with little Ginny Weasley. Nice change of pace."

A strange desire to drag Blaise across the table and pound his face into a monstrous pulp overtook Draco. Swallowing his ire, Draco resolved to not lose his composure. "I don't think she's your type, Zabini," he said, a hint of a snarl edging his words.

Blaise gave a capricious laugh. "What do you care, Malfoy? She's not your type either, but that's not stopping you. We should both just leave her to her adoring boyfriend, Thomas. I'm sure he'll take good care of her," Blaise offered up as if it was the logical conclusion.

A conclusion that Draco didn't like. _Not because I'm jealous, mind you. Because that halfblood bastard is a clumsy oaf that doesn't deserve her. _"Thomas couldn't take care of a prostitute in a whorehouse," he sneered. "Not that I care. Like you said, I'm free. She can do whatever she bloody well likes, no skin off my back."

Pansy jumped in. "Now that's the Draco Malfoy we know and... well, almost love. Fuck and run, I always say. Now's the time when a girl should sample as many chocolates as she can." Smiling at Blaise, she stood up. "We should get going. I need to get started on that Transfiguration assignment, and I wager neither of you have started it either."

Draco lagged a step behind as Blaise and Pansy made for the door. He was too busy swallowing the bile in his throat at the thought of Ginny whoring her way through the school to see the significant look shared between Blaise and Pansy.

-

"Ponced off for a massive sulk, has he?" Pansy asked as Blaise came down the boys' staircase with his Transfiguration texts.

Dropping his things carelessly on the table, Blaise collapsed into a chair and proceeded to swing his legs over the arm, getting comfortable. "Oh yes. Claimed he had a bit of a headache and was going to take a lie-down. Stewing over the facts we presented him, in reality."

"Fell for it too easily, Blaise. It was hardly any work at all, and his feelings were written all over his pointy little face. That's not our Draco," Pansy mused as she flipped open her book. "I thought you were wrong, or at least overstating the case, but I think you've hit this one dead-on. Draco actually feels something for Ginny Weasley. Did you see his expression when I said she should try out as many boys as possible? I thought he was going to retch right there on the table."

Blaise sighed and fiddled with his cuffs. "Oh, Pansy. Trust me. If I know one thing, it's compatibility. And they fit together quite well. Or they will, once we manipulate things to where they should be. We gave Draco enough half-truths to bring him to the realisation that he wants Ginny Weasley to be his, and no one else's. Draco's pride is the key. He can't stand the thought of sharing something he actually desires. He'll convince her to be exclusive, even if it stays a secret. And once they're exclusive, he's as done as charred biscuits."

They shared a smile. "Think he'll thank us?" Pansy asked jokingly.

"In about ten years, he will," Blaise replied in all seriousness.

-

Draco threw his hairbrush in a fit of temper. Next he hurled his toiletry kit, and then the pedestal it was standing on. Feeling slightly better, he looked for more things to throw. Deciding that everything else was either an antique or too heavy, he flopped on his bed and contemplated the headboard.

"Stupid Pansy, saying Ginny is going to whore around the school. Hmph. She has better taste than that. Why would she go after lesser men when she could have me?" he demanded.

The bed-hangings gave no reply.

"And the Ambiguously Gay Man Whore suggesting he'd take her. She'd likely catch something. When I am obviously the cream of the school, he thinks she'd leave me for him!"

The pillow he punched viciously failed to answer him, so he stuffed it under his head.

"What's wrong with just me?" he demanded of the duvet.

Kicking off his shoes, he muttered, "And Thomas. Don't even get me started on that half-blood. Who the hell sneaks around on a girl that looks like Ginny with that overgrown beanpole Frobisher girl! Not only colossal stupidity, but apparently Thomas is blind, as well."

He sat up and squirmed under the bedclothes. "I need a plan," he announced. "Get her jealous. Show her that I'm desirable to other girls, too. Once she sees that, she'll beg to be with me." Smoothing his pillow, he mused, "Yes, that's it. I'll pay a bit of attention to... hmm, who's good looking? I suppose Daphne what's-her-name will do. Pretty enough, if you like that sort of thing. Yes, precisely. Chat up Daphne where she can see, get her all insecure, and then snatch her up. Make her tell Thomas to shove it, and spend her time with me. Secret rendevous, and all that. Bring her back here, a little romance, get her hooked." Closing his eyes, he snuggled down for a nice nap. "Need my beauty sleep if I'm going to make my cunning little plan work perfectly. She'll be all mine. Don't share," he mumbled as he drifted off.

-

Ginny had caught Draco giving her flirtatious little glances all through lunch. He would smirk knowingly when she met his gaze and smiled back tentatively. When he got up and left with several of his housemates, Ginny waited a minute before getting up and leaving. Hoping she was right, she left the Great Hall and headed towards the dungeons. Hearing voices down a side corridor, she peeked around the corner. Seeing Draco talking to a girl in his House, she moved forward confidently and gave him a flirty smile to catch his attention.

The smile slid off of her face as he inclined his head and pressed his lips to the girl in front of him. Her throaty laugh stunned Ginny into immobility.

"Oh Draco," she purred as her hands slid around his neck. "Kiss me again."

His eyes flickered up as he pulled her closer with an arm around the waist. Seeing Ginny, he hesitated a brief moment as something flickered in his eyes. "What's wrong, Weasel? Have to resort to spying to get your kicks? Run along, we're busy," he drawled coldly.

The girl turned around and gave Ginny a measuring glance. "Find your own. This one's taken," she hissed with a fake smile. Turning back, she ran her hands up Draco's arms and moved to kiss him.

Breaking free of her stupor, Ginny whirled and bounded back up the corridor with a manic energy. Turning the corner, she stopped just short of barreling into Blaise Zabini.

"Lost, are we?" he smiled. "Let me show you back to the main corridors. Ginny, isn't it?"

Ginny's sluggish brain refused to work at a normal speed. Slowly, she nodded. Attempting civility, she replied, "And you're Blaise Zabini."

"Guilty," he laughed. "You seem a little unnerved. Are you all right?" he inquired solicitously.

His question seemed to drain the energy right out of her. Sagging against the wall, Ginny shook her head dazedly. "No, but I will be. Apparently I was mistaken in something. But I should have known better. Mum used to say leopards never change their spots. I should have kept that in mind."

Blaise took her elbow. "Look, you are very obviously not all right. Why don't you come with me to the Common Room? I'll just pop inside and get you a glass of water, and then when you're ready I'll take you back upstairs. Is that okay?" he asked, worried at her pale face. _Draco's mucked things up somehow. Hopefully, he's in the Common Room, so I can kick his arse out the portrait to fix things._ "Come on," he said gently, putting an arm around her shoulders in case she fainted.

Moving her around the corner, he stiffened in surprise when she flinched and tried to break free. Looking up, he saw Draco and Daphne parting, his hair obviously messed up and her lips rosy. _Stupid bastard! You've ruined everything!_, Blaise fumed. Thinking quickly, he pasted a predatorial grin on his face as he looked at Draco. "Your loss, mate," he said, his low voice carrying easily to Draco's ears. Urging Ginny forward again, he moved them past Draco quickly. "Easy on, little one," he murmured in her ear. "A lesson. You must appear strong when you're at your weakest. Smile at them both and pretend we're on our way to a previously planned outing."

Ginny gave him a weak smile as soon as he pulled back from whispering in her ear. "It's alright, Blaise. Just turns one's stomach to come upon that," she waved negligently at Draco, "when I was hoping to find you. Ready to go?"

He ran an appreciative finger along her cheek. "I am now. A fiery ray of sunshine in my dismal dungeons, Ginbug. Come on."

"Have fun, you two," he threw over his shoulder to the stunned-looking Draco. "It's a good Saturday to enjoy a pleasant woman's company."

-

Ginny sat in the library and listened to Blaise Zabini educate her on the twisted mind of Draco Malfoy. She was extremely grateful to him for his quick assistance in the dungeons, when she was too shaken to think for herself. He told her he believed that she and Draco were well suited to one another, but that he was apparently more stupid that Blaise had previously given him credit for. They agreed that Daphne Snodgrass was a ruse to make her jealous.

Ginny rather thought his mind was a bit too convoluted for her tastes, but Blaise had spent many minutes persuading her to listen to his advice. If Draco was irritated at seeing Blaise with Ginny, he would be much more inclined to reveal his feelings if Ginny flaunted a 'real' opponent in his face.

"But the only boy I've seen at all lately is Dean," she protested. "And he is much more interested in Vicky Frobisher than me."

"Darling, a rule to know and live by. Men ALWAYS want what they are told they can't have. After telling Thomas 'no' so many times, if you offer to kiss him, he'll jump at the chance."

"I can't do that," Ginny argued vehemently. "I am not going to use him like a toy."

Blaise adjusted his attack. "I'm not suggesting you use him," he assured. "I'm suggesting you kiss him one last time, to see if you still feel anything for him. It's only fair to poor Thomas. If you do, you two can work things out. If you don't, you both can finally have a nice clean break. It's much kinder in the long run, Ginny. This way neither of you will wonder what might have been." Blaise smiled helpfully, praying his hunch was right and that a girl like Ginny wouldn't be able to kiss Draco when she still felt something for Dean Thomas.

Ginny thought that while Blaise made sense, he was perhaps a little too smooth. "What do you get out of it?" she asked suspiciously.

He laughed quietly. "Not stupid, this one. Draco is probably the only boy I know that genuinely likes me, regardless of what, or who, I do. I think, after all of this nonsense is sorted out, you'll both find that the other will make you happy. And I would like to see him happy, for once. My proposal gives you the chance to sort out your relationship with Thomas. All I suggest is that if you conduct your 'experiment' in the library at a certain time, when I will have Draco in view, he will realise what a stupid move he pulled with Daphne. The shoe, when on the other foot, as it is, often pinches. He'll hate it. He'll likely snarl and make death threats. But he will come around. And if you decide that Thomas doesn't hold an attraction for you any longer, then Draco will be primed for you to take. Simple."

Ginny snorted. "Simple? Hardly."

With a self-deprecating smile, he acknowledged, "Simple by my usual standards."

"Okay," Ginny said in a small voice, twisting her hands in her lap.

"Okay, as in: Yes, Blaise, have Draco here tomorrow at ten in the morning, so I may conduct my experiment?" Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow.

Smiling, Ginny nodded decisively. "Yes. Tomorrow."

-

Blaise had to employ Pansy in the next portion of his plan, as Draco refused to even look at Blaise. So it was that Pansy and Draco were researching their Transfiguration assignment in the library the next morning, alternately comparing notes and discussing Blaise's behaviour.

"Atrocious," Draco grumbled. "Some mate he is, pouncing on Weasley when I had made it clear I was still... still, well, whatever," he trailed off agitatedly.

"Still what, Draco?" Pansy prodded. "You said very clearly that it wasn't serious. Field's wide open for everyone. Not like the girl has your family crest branded on her forehead to warn off others. Besides, Daphne said you two had a very pleasant interlude yesterday. You know what I always say. Can't have it both ways."

"But it's Blaise," he whined.

"Yes, it's Blaise," she smirked. "And we both know how Blaise is when it comes to new and interesting sexual conquests. You mentioning her brought all of this about, you know. Stop pouting and go snag _'Transmogrifications Of Bi-Valves and Shellfish'_. It's at the end of that row there. We need it for this next part."

Grousing about Blaise's lack of loyalty, Draco ambled to the end of the aisle and scanned the shelves for the title. A flash of bright hair caught his eye when he stepped back to look at the top shelves. Peering around the corner, he watched as Ginny and Dean Thomas pulled their chairs closer together, obviously deep in conversation. Glancing back at Pansy, who tapped her quill impatiently, he grabbed the book and strode back to the table. Dropping the book in her lap, he muttered something about getting another book they needed and moved back down the aisle.

Crouching down and making a show of checking the books on the bottom shelf, he watched Ginny avidly. She looked flustered, especially when Thomas leant forward and took both of her hands in his own. The hopeful look on the git's face gave Draco a sudden and severe case of heartburn. _What a massive ponce,_ he thought uncharitably. What happened next caught Draco completely off-guard. She shook her head with a small smile and leant forward, her eyes drifting closed. Coming half-out of his chair, Thomas brought his mouth over hers in a passionate kiss. Draco was drawing his wand and standing when Pansy sidled up to him and grabbed his arm in a vise grip.

"WHAT are you doing?" she hissed.

He turned burning eyes on her and shook her off. "Sod off, Pansy," he hissed back, voice dripping with venom. "Just look for yourself," he snarled, hauling her in front of him so she could see.

"She's kissing her boyfriend, you twit. So what?" she spat as she forcibly dragged him back to their table. Pushing him into his seat without ceremony, she ordered, "Sit down, before you embarass us both. Stay."

Pinning him with a glare, she perched a hip on the table next to him. "We discussed this. Either it's serious, or it's not. If it's not, you get no say in who she kisses. She can plant one on Snape if she chooses. Potter. Whoever. Now-calm-the-bloody-hell-down."

He glared back impotently.

Pansy stuck her finger in his face and leaned forward until their noses almost touched. Very clearly, she enunciated, "You are acting like a git. A big, soppy git. A very transparent one too, and I'm tired of listening to you. You want to act like some lovesick Hufflepuff? Mucking things up and making Slytherin seem incompetent? I don't think so. Talk to her. Send her a note. Something. But sort your shit out quietly, because I'm not bailing your sorry arse out again."

She stood, gathered her things and left, a cloud of hostility trailing behind her. A quick check told him Ginny had left also. As tempting as it was to go over and challenge Thomas to a duel, Draco carefully packed his things up and wandered back to his room.

"How the hell do I do this?" he wondered.

-

The morning before the Gryffindor-Slytherin match was quiet. Ginny was surprised when a strange owl dropped a letter in front of her. She put down her apple and slowly broke the plain wax seal.

_Meet me by the copse of ash trees by the lake after the match. There are things we need to discuss._

_-D-_

Ginny considered shredding the parchment into tiny pieces, but she thought he was just contrary enough to keep sending notes until she answered. Borrowing a quill and ink from Ron, who was working on plays with Harry, Ginny scrawled back one word.

_-NO-_

Retying it to the owl's leg, who was obviously ordered to wait for a response, she watched as the bird flew back up with the other owls until it was lost to the eye. Turning her gaze to find Malfoy, she saw the owl descend to him. Quickly removing the parchment, he scowled as the owl soared away.

-

The morning of the match dawned cool and clear. Ginny was too busy talking with Dennis about the match to notice the owl next to her until he pointed it out. Frowning, she untied the parchment, knowing who it was from.

_Either meet me there willingly, or I'll drag you kicking and screaming from the Quidditch pitch the second the match is over._

_-D-_

Shaking her head at his juvenile behaviour, she again borrowed a quill.

_Fine._

She sent the owl off without bothering to look over at where Draco sat, moodily wondering how his grand plan could have backfired so badly. When he read her response, he heaved a sigh. _I guess I'm actually going to have to resort to drastic measures here._

-

It took Ginny a good ten minutes to extricate herself from the mass of cheering Gryffindors that flooded the pitch after Harry caught the Snitch. She slipped away, still clutching her broom and wearing her kit, and walked tiredly to the lake. She found him sitting on the ground, propped up against the trunk of a tree, staring out over the water.

She looked down at him with a confused frown. "I saw what you did," she accused quietly.

"I didn't do anything," he replied flatly.

Ginny carefully laid down her broom and moved so that she could see his face clearly. "You let Harry catch the Snitch. You hesitated. He knows it, I know it, you know it. Why?"

He shrugged. "Would you believe it was an accident?"

Ginny snorted, picturing him 'accidentally' letting Harry catch the Snitch and being this calm about it. "Yes, I'd believe that the same day I'd believe Albus Dumbledore was a transvestite."

He threw her a disgusted glance before turning his gaze back out to the lake. "Thanks for the vomit-inspiring visual."

"Anytime," Ginny responded cheerfully as she sat down next to him. "So why'd you do it?"

Draco picked up a fallen twig and began snapping it into pieces. "Don't know," he mumbled. "It was a sodding stupid idea anyway." When Ginny remained silent, he burst out, "I wanted to show you I'm so... that I apo... that I could be some stupid bleeding-heart ponce, like all of your stupid Gryffindor friends. That I could be _nice,_" he spat, making it sound vile, "if I wanted." He threw the twig at the water. "It was terrible," he sulked. "I don't like it, not one bit. Evil and terrifying is so much more my thing."

Ginny looked at the miserable boy next to her solemnly, fighting the laughter bubbling in her throat. "If I wanted nice, I'd date Neville," she intoned.

Although a hopeful look lit his face, he refused to meet her eyes. "So I don't have to be nice to the Wonder Twits for you to like me again?"

Ginny let a satisfied smile touch her lips. "I don't like you." His face crumbled. "Maybe I do. But only a little," she amended.

Finally, he looked at her. "So you're not angry anymore? You understand?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I'm still angry. Plenty angry. But if I keep ignoring you, you'll likely do something even more absurd, like offer to carry Hermione's books. Just don't expect kissing anytime soon. At least not from me." It was Ginny's turn to look distinctly uncomfortable. "Why'd you kiss that girl and say those things?"

Draco's expressionless face was inscrutable. "Why not?" he shrugged. "It's not like you and I are together. You're free to go round kissing man whores and great, ugly half-blood gits that cheat on you, if you like," he threw out nonchalantly.

Ginny gave him a nasty look. "You're a real charmer, Malfoy."

"Quite a prize yourself, Weasley," he parried.

"You've made your point," Ginny sighed.

"Have I?"

"The answer is yes."

Draco paused, brow creased in confusion. "Yes, what?" he asked, perplexed.

Ginny stretched and rearranged herself against the tree. "Yes, I'll date you, since that's what this whole temper tantrum has been about."

Draco gaped at her as she calmly regarded him with those steady brown eyes. He looked as if he had just swallowed a spider. "What?" he croaked.

As she unstrapped her armguards, Ginny said casually, "You know, the vaunted Slytherin cunning plans aren't all they're cracked up to be."

"You knew!" he gasped, horrified.

Conversationally, she continued. "It's not like it was that difficult to figure out. You were looking at me the whole time she had her tongue stuck down your throat. I just needed a little time to sort it all out."

"And Blaise?" he demanded.

"Pure coincidence. Almost ran him down. He thought I was lost, and was taking me back upstairs. We ended up chatting in the library."

"Oh, the library. Your favourite," he sneered.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny sneered back, her temper rising.

"I saw you snogging Thomas there. I-"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin! We were seeing if there was anything left between us, you ninny. We dated for two years. I figured we both deserved a clean break, and that's what you saw. We kissed. It was awkward, and neither of us had the slightest inclination to continue. That's it. So onto bigger problems. Like your stupid, convoluted plans that just complicate things."

"Stupid? Convoluted!"

"Stupid and convoluted," she confirmed. "Your plans are atrocious. Pull a stunt like you did in the dungeons again, and not only will I dump your idiotic arse, but I will hit you with every hex I know. You want to see each other? Fine. Keep it quiet? Fine." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "But believe me, Draco Malfoy. I like my relationships simple. No more stupid plans. Agreed?"

He looked down at where she was digging her finger into his chest, and then up at her face, flushed with emotion. "Agreed," he said quietly, before grabbing her hand and pulling her against him for a soft kiss.

* * *

I'm pretty sure "Ambiguously Gay" is a quote from Saturday Night Live, but I'm not positive. I'm also too damn tired right now to Google it. 

Again, I'm really sorry to have kept you waiting so long. Hope you liked it. I couldn't just let everything come up roses for them immediately, could I? Part of their charm is the misunderstandings, fights, and making up. :)


	14. The Pouty Look

Author's Notes:

Nobody fall off their chairs, but it's actually a new chapter. That's right, _Downfall_ is officially **off hiatus**. Boo, lazy author. Hooray, new chapter! (end shameless rip-off of the Red Stripe commercials) My life has finally settled enough that I feel comfortable getting new work on this done so you all can read it to the conclusion, which is about four to six chapters away.

PS- I recently had a reviewer ask if if I read my reviews. Yes, I read each and every one of them, and I truly value the fact that you all think enough of my story to take the time to send me your comments, whether they're complimentary, constructive or flat-out flames. Even the negative reviews help me to refocus my efforts and put out the best product I am capable of. So- thank you, readers. I'd be lying if I said I wrote this strictly for my own edification- I don't. I'm a review addict, so enjoy the chapter and take a second to tell me what you think of it.

* * *

I Thought the Pouty Look Was In Right Now

Ginny had meant it when she told Draco that she wouldn't be kissing him for awhile. At least she had meant it when she said it, but somehow the soft kiss he gave her after she told him he had no talent for plotting melted her resolve.

It was a long time before either of them realised that the pitch had completely emptied and the sky had begun to darken.

- - -

Draco woke the next morning with a smile on his face. "Doing a heinous deed like letting Potter get the Snitch does has its advantages," he said in a mellow voice as he stretched and clambered out of bed.

He padded over to the mirror to collect his towel and toiletry kit so he could go shower. "Bloody _hell_," he breathed, dropping the towel. "What happened to my lips?"

Draco gazed in horror at his reflection. He took great pride in his lips. They were thin and manly and perfect. Usually. Right now, however, his lips looked like they had met the business end of a billywig. They were swollen and very- "Pink," he groaned. "I have fat pink girly lips."

He desperately tried every spell in his healing book that reduced swelling, to no avail. Dejectedly, he gazed at his face in the mirror as he worked up the courage to go to breakfast like this.

Draco gave his lips one last jab with his wand and managed a weak Deflating Charm that did no visible good. Holstering his wand, he sighed, "No more two hour snogging sessions for you, Ginny Weasley. You're bad for my image."

- - -

Pansy patted his cheek indulgently. "It's not so bad, Draco, they should be back to normal in a few hours. Women pay good money for cosmetic potions to give them lips like that- it's very trendy right now. Besides, some girls like pouty-lipped boys."

Draco expected Blaise's snigger, but not the smile Goyle was trying to hide behind a large glass of juice. He looked around. Several of his housemates were staring at him with unabashed interest. "Oh, sod off, all of you!" he cried defensively. "They're only like this because I drank a bad batch of Pepper-Up Potion last night whilst revising."

"I didn't know Hogwarts was offering an Anatomy and Physiology course," Blaise piped up. "And last time I saw you, that was most _definitely_ what you were getting an intimate knowledge of."

Draco flushed a dull red as Daphne Greengrass' head swiveled towards him. "Who's anatomy were you studying, Draco?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

Settling on the strategy that it was best to attack first, Draco stuck his nose up in the air. "None of your business, Greengrass. It's not like you'll ever have any sort of claim on me."

They glared at one another for at least a full minute.

Blaise leant forward. "Good _God_, Daphne! Are those your teeth I hear grinding?"

She picked up her cup of tea and said snootily, "Piss off, the both of you," before turning her head and ignoring them completely.

Feeling distinctly put out, Draco looked at the clock. _Ten minutes until morning post. Excellent._ He nudged Pansy and reached across the table to smack Blaise on the arm. "Mates are such wonderful things, don't you think?"

Pansy gave him a suspicious look. Blaise just sat there with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, friends are wonderful," Draco mused. "Especially when they feel the need to meddle about in your life. _Why_ do they meddle, you ask?" he said, slapping a melodramatic hand over his heart. "Because they think they know better than you."

Pansy scowled at him. "We _do_ know what's best for you, twit. If not for us, you'd still be whining about how awful Weasley is and pointedly ignoring the sexual tension between you." She stabbed him with a finger. "If not for your 'meddling' friends, you'd still be wanking in your room over that little redhead instead of snogging her senseless like I saw you doing last night."

Flushing, Draco looked around wildly before grabbing Pansy's arm and leaning in close. "Shut _up_, you stupid cow. Do you want everyone to hear you?"

Blaise sighed. "Draco, have you completely taken leave of your senses? Why don't we all go discuss this in your room or somewhere private?" He rolled his eyes. "I never thought the simple act of kissing could make you _dumber_."

Draco flushed again. "Right," he said, trying to regain his self-composure. "My room." He stole a glance at the clock again. "Let's just wait until the post arrives."

- - -

Draco took the letter from the owl sitting next to him with some surprise. He knew Ginny had not received her note yet, so it couldn't possibly be her reply.

He broke the seal on the parchment and scanned the contents before letting out a snort of derision.

_Dear Mister Malfoy, _

_Your request to legislate magical human copulation and birth has been carefully considered. We regret to inform you that the practise of eugenics was banned in a unanimous vote by the Wizengamot in 1945._

_If you feel very strongly about the topic, perhaps you should notify an elected representative of Wizarding Wiltshire, whose post was established to field such concerns from his constituency._

_Again, thank you for taking an interest in your government._

_Best regards,_

_Clancy Sykes IV  
Intern to the Assistant to the Acting Deputy Undersecretary for Ministry Public Affairs _

"What bollocks," he sneered. "The Ministry's got no teeth anymore, that's their problem. They've got to learn to brush off complaints from the masses of people who feel they're entitled to do whatever they want."

Blaise, who had read the letter over his friend's shoulder, didn't have the heart to point out that the Ministry was doing exactly that.

- - -

Ginny took the note from the school owl. Not surprisingly, it was from Draco.

_Sundays are very good for revising in your private room where it's quiet. Lunch, in particular, is an excellent time to get work done whilst everyone else is stuffing their faces in the Great Hall. Good thing some of us have password-guarded rooms. -D_

Ginny's lips quirked as she folded the note and put it in her pocket.

"Who was that from?" Hermione asked.

Ginny's startled gaze jerked to the older girl. "Erm, nobody. Well, it's someone, obviously. He wants to go over our notes from History of Magic," Ginny said, desperately trying not to blush.

Hermione gave her an odd look. "Ginny, you're rubbish at History of Magic. No offence, but who would want your help in that class?"

Ginny shook her head. "Oh, no. He wants to help me, not the other way around. Just a note to set up a time to get together. You know, to revise."

Hermione cocked her head. Biting her lip to hold in a laugh, she said, "Oh, I see. It's a _study_ date. Your brother tries to set those up with me all the time."

Ginny made a face. "Oh, _ew_. Seriously, Hermione, I've told you a thousand times. I refuse to listen to your sordid stories about my brother. Disgusting."

Ginny waited until Hermione was deep in conversation with Harry and Ron before she furtively looked over at Draco. He was staring at her, even though he was clearly talking to Pansy. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before sticking her tongue out at him. When he smirked, she gave a small nod. Catching his nod in return, she turned to the fifth year sitting next to her. "So, how are you doing prepping for your OWLs?"

- - -

Blaise and Pansy sat next to each other on Draco's sofa, silently scanning the room as Draco fidgeted by the fireplace.

"Well?" Draco burst out. "Will it do?"

Blaise rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "What on earth is wrong with you this morning? You're behaving like a third year Hufflepuff on Valentine's Day."

Draco shook his head and dropped into a chair. Plowing his hands through his hair, he responded, "Hell if I know. She figured out my plan to make her jealous and shouted at me that she wanted a 'nice, simple relationship'."

Pansy's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Yes, well, I can see why she'd do that. Your plans usually _are_ atrocious, you know. Unlike the ones Blaise and I come up with; those actually _work_."

Draco carefully selected an exploding bon-bon from the box of sweets on the table and threw it at her.

"Hey!" Pansy yelled as it vaporized against her shoulder, leaving a giant brown stain. "You are _such_ a bastard, Draco."

"Maybe," he conceded. "But at least I'm clean."

Blaise drew his wand and shot them both with a Speechless Jinx. "I thought for a minute there that we were in nappies again with all this nonsense. Can we get back on topic, or should I go find something more interesting to do? Because if you two want to have a row, I'd prefer to go inspect some very interesting toys Tracey mentioned acquiring." He removed the jinx when they nodded.

"What kind of toys?" Pansy asked curiously. "You know, now that I think about it, never mind. It probably involves a ball-gag, and that's an image I'd rather avoid, thank you very much."

Draco spread his hands wide. "I'm all ears, Blaise. About the state of my room, not Davis' predilection for ball-gags and other pieces of kink. Let's get this in order so I can kick you out and get some action from someone much better looking."

Blaise huffed, "Weasley may be quite fit, but I'm still prettier than you, Draco. And at least _my_ plans actually work." He stood up and assessed the room. "All right, first thing. Hide that massive bag of beauty creams and the Sleakeasy's. Speaking of, where did you ever find that bottle? I've never seen Sleakeasy's sold by the litre before."

Draco gathered his toiletry kit and Sleakeasy's protectively. "They're not beauty creams, you git, they're a skin care regimen for wizards. I get the Sleakeasy's from my mum. She bribes the production plant to send her litres at a time instead of those piddling little 150 mL jobs." He stuffed both into his wardrobe and shut the doors. "Anything else need fixing, you think?"

"Your brain," Pansy grumbled. A flat glare from Draco had her saying, "Oh, fine. The place is almost acceptable, Draco. I'd just make sure you have fresh linens on the bed and add some candles to help set the mood."

"What makes you the authority on romance, Pansy? Last I recall, your concept of a romantic meal included the phrase, 'Take your trousers off and lie down'."

Pansy hurled an inkpot from Draco's desk at his head. "Draco Malfoy, I am the only serious girlfriend you've ever had until now," Pansy said through lips tight with displeasure. "And still one of your best mates, I might add, despite your propensity for saying things that make me want to castrate you. I know much better than anyone that you are utter rubbish at romantic gestures appropriate for your girlfriend. As said authority, it is my duty to tell you exactly what to do."

"Why is every woman in my life a pushy bint?" he lamented.

"Because you're a weak-willed nancy that needs a firm hand," she replied as she put actions to words and pushed him towards the door. "Now, let's run to the common room and get those candles. Blaise, you stay and change his linens."

Blaise gave himself an exaggerated examination. "That's odd, I could have sworn I was a pureblooded wizard taking six NEWT-level courses, not a mangy little house-elf prancing about in rags."

"Do it," Pansy ordered as she towed Draco from the room by his sleeve.

- - -

Ten minutes later, Draco looked at his room. He had to admit, the transformation was amazing. Soft candlelight added ambiance, as Blaise had pointed out, and Pansy had swept the place clean of its normal clutter of school things. He tried to swallow his annoyance at having to employ his friends to help him create a romantic atmosphere for Ginny's visit. "Good, now get out," he growled as soon as Pansy tidied the last corner.

Both Blaise and Pansy took a menacing step in his direction. "Fine," he said, hastily ducking behind the chair. "I'll say it. Thanks for your help."

Pansy smiled. "Was that so hard? You know, Blaise, I think it was," she said, straightening the bed-hangings.

Blaise reminded Draco as they strolled to the door, "Right. Now go get something to nibble on, since you'll be missing lunch for this pleasant little interlude."

Draco nodded and slapped Blaise on the back. "Thanks, mate."

Pansy gave an outraged little gasp. "What about me?"

He grinned at her. "Yeah, I guess you helped."

She brushed past him. "I hope she kicks you in the balls," Pansy muttered with a dark look as Blaise propelled her towards the door by the shoulders.

- - -

Ginny slid around the corner to the Slytherin statue guarding Draco's room. It had been damned hard to get here without the Slytherins on their way up to the Great Hall seeing her. She stopped in front of the statue and said with a shifty look around, "Potentium."

The stone face creaked loudly before replying, "The Head Boy's friends spoke of a girl coming here for an assignation, but I would never have guessed_ you_. Pureblood witches have no need to whore themselves out, young lady. Word is that there's few enough of you about these days to make you a rare commodity."

Ginny stared at the statue in disbelief. "Did you just call me a _whore_?" she asked. "Oh, that is absolutely _it_."

She dug through her pockets, hoping that she had not taken it out yet. "Aha!" she cried in triumph, producing a vial of pink potion. Wasting no time, she dumped it over the statue.

"Now," Ginny said with a grin. "I repeat, the password is 'Potentium'. Open the hell up."

Slytherin's statue managed to arrange its face into the very picture of hatred before it moved aside to allow her into the room.

- - -

Draco rolled his shoulders, trying to work the cramp from his neck without dislodging Ginny.

"What?" she asked, breaking the kiss.

He grinned at her. "Why do women sound so sexy when they're out of breath and husky from desire?"

She pushed herself off of his chest. "Women, as in the plural sense?" she asked, a flash of annoyance in her eyes.

"If I backtrack and say, 'I meant only you, Ginny,' will that get me safely out of the hole I suspect I just fell in?"

She laughed. "No, but if you want to make it up to me, I'd suggest warming up your hands."

He sat up immediately with sudden interest. _Hands that need to be warmed up? Is she saying what I think she's saying? I get to touch her chest, don't I? Gods, **finally**. I've-_ "What?" he said aloud when he realised that she had been talking.

"I _said_," she drawled out with exaggerated care, "that my back is really bothering me from a Bludger hit I took in a training session. You can make it up to me by offering me a back rub." She grinned. "But if you'd rather not, I'd understand."

_Bloody hell- no breasts then._"Of course I will, Ginny. On one condition," he stipulated. At her raised eyebrow, he gave her a cheeky grin. "Ditch the shirt."

Ginny caught the reference to the remark he made in the Potions classroom more than a month ago and smirked as she began to unbutton her shirt. Feeling very wanton, she undid all of the buttons except for the one in front of her bra as she stared him in the eye.

Giving up the battle gracefully, Draco dropped his eyes. "Don't let me delay you," he said to her breasts. "Get on with it."

Ginny smirked to herself. "You are _obsessed_, Draco Malfoy. For the love of everything holy, they're breasts. Every woman's got a set, and they look approximately the same. I don't see why mine hold such allure for you."

He blinked and looked up at her in disbelief. "They are _not_ all the same, Ginny. Hmph. Shows what you know. Yours are damn near perfect, I'll tell you that. If you want that backrub, though, you'd better undo that button and lose the shirt in the next three seconds. One, two-"

She popped the button through its hole and slid the shirt off of her shoulders in one smooth movement.

He sat silently, staring at her chest for a long moment before saying briskly, "Well, go on then. Turn around and tell me where it hurts."

Ginny turned around and leant forward so he had access to her entire back. "Up between the shoulder blades," she said, wincing when he touched the area.

"You've a bruise," he told her, tracing the round outline of where the Bludger hit her. "Why didn't you go up and have Madam Pomfrey fix it for you?"

Ginny shrugged. "I didn't think it was that bad. It's not really awful, it just aches a lot."

She turned her head and watched him get up to pull a large book from his desk. He thumbed through it on his way back to her.

"Here we are," he said triumphantly. "How to treat bruises."

Ginny craned her neck to look at the page with him. "You know healing spells?" she asked incredulously.

He pulled a face. "Really, Weasley, only a complete half-wit would play competitive Quidditch without knowing at least a few basic healing spells."

She narrowed her eyes at him over her shoulder. "Did you just call me a half-wit?"

He poked her in the back, hitting the bruised area squarely.

"Ow!" she yelped, turning around fully to slap at his hand. "What in the hell did you do that for?" she demanded.

Although he answered her promptly, his eyes were firmly attached to her chest. "Because I think 'half-wit' is the appropriate term for a witch that gets bowled over by a Bludger and refuses to go see the nurse."

Ginny crossed her arms across her chest and huffed, "You know sod-all, Malfoy."

His lips quirked. "Malfoy, is it? You must be cross with me."

"You think?"

Draco heaved a sigh. "Ginny, just turn around and let me heal it, alright?"

She glared at him for another moment before conceding. _It'd be bloody counterproductive to refuse his healing out of spite._ "Fine."

When he had finished, she experimentally twisted and turned about. "I'll be damned, Draco. Not bad at all."

"Such high praise, Miss Weasley," he said dryly, "would make a lesser man worship you."

"Don't be a prat, Draco. Give us a kiss."

He frowned at her. "I'm still a bit put out with you. Not even a thank you, Ginny."

Ginny shrugged. "Well, if you don't want to kiss a shirtless girl in your room, don't blame me. I offered," she said, reaching for her discarded shirt.

He grabbed the shirt at the same time she did. "No, that's not what I meant," he said hastily, tugging at the shirt.

She tried to yank it from his grasp. "Let go, Draco. You had your chance."

"No," he declared mutinously. "I want that kiss."

"The offer expired."

He scowled at her, shrugged gracefully and released the shirt. "If that's how you want it." When she had swung it around her shoulders and was busy fitting her arms into the sleeves, he pounced forward, knocking her flat on the sofa and looming over her. "Gimme that kiss, Weasley," he demanded with a playful smile.

Ginny tried to glare up at him, but she could feel the corners of her mouth twitching. "Come and get it," she challenged.

"With pleasure," Draco fairly purred, dropping his mouth onto hers with a satisfied smirk.


End file.
